Life's A Bitch
by WindyCanyon
Summary: Formerly known as "Fate's a Bitch". After their grandfather's death, Lovino and Feliciano are left on the streets alone. To make matters worse, Feliciano falls ill and Lovino has to resort to stealing just to get them by. Will one fateful encounter change all that, or will Lovino be doomed to watch his little brother waste away?
1. Chapter 1

A young teen ran as fast as he could, dodging around people as he weaved through the crowd. Even though his lungs screamed for air, he didn't dare stop for fear they would catch him. He clutched the small bag so tightly to his chest, he was almost afraid he would crush precious bread inside. The calls of "Thief!" and "Get him!" only grew behind him as more people joined the chase until it felt like the entire world was after him for swiping a loaf of bread from the baker's window. He ducked into an alley in hopes of losing everyone only to find that it was a dead-end and he was trapped.

"Shit," he mumbled and looked around for an escape. Luck for him, there was an open window and a couple of boxes big enough to get to it. With the nimbleness of a circus performer, he was inside the safety of a stranger's home. As he crouched low, he could hear the mob of people out for his blood reach the alley he had almost foolishly gotten himself stuck in.

"Are you the one that caused the commotion outside?" A dark-haired brunette smiled at him from across the small, cozy kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

Lovino stared incredulously at the smiling idiot in front of him, having no idea how to respond to the obvious kindness that radiated from the man.

"The front door is that way if you need to leave, but I'm not going to take you to the authorities, so won't you stay and have dinner with me before you go?" The man took a step towards him, that silly smile still spread across his face.

He shrank back, glaring furiously at him, still choosing silence over words.

"You see, I run the produce stand on the corner and I've seen you take a couple of my tomatoes before. Do you like tomatoes?" The cheerful man smiled even more as he pushed a bowl of the red fruit towards him.

He slowly dumped the bowl into his bag, never taking his eyes off the man in front of him. "Grazie," he said simply before scurrying around him and out the door.

Once outside, he walked quickly through the lessening crowds of people. The excitement of before had disappeared and the further he got from the market, the safer he was. Lovino didn't slow his face pace until he was almost in sight of his destination. The road under his feet wasn't used much anymore and neither were the fields that lined the dirtpath, which was really the right name for it, because plants had taken back most of it and only the narrow trail Lovino himself had worn into it was clear of grass. His path ended at an abandoned barn that was in obvious disrepair and neglect.

He climbed the steep hill and carefully pushed open the door that looked like it could fall off its hinges at any time. The smell of dust and rotting hay met his sense, along with the underlying scent of sickness. "Feliciano?" he called softly into the deep shadows. "I'm back."

"L-Lovi?" A timid voice croaked from the back of the barn. "You're later than usual. The sun has already started to set."

He stepped inside and closed the door, cutting off the fading light. His eyes adjust quickly to the darkness as he made his way to his brother's bedside. "I'm sorry about that, I got held up." Lovino knelt beside Feliciano to help him sit up against a crate positioned as a headrest.

"Did something happen?" Feliciano's voice was soft and rough from too much coughing. "I was worried."

"Nothing important. Look what I got you today." He set his bag in Feliciano's lap, hoping to distract him from asking about today's events with a surprise.

Feliciano gasped when he took out the rare items. "How did you get these? Bread? Even tomatoes?" He smiled like he use to before he sickness took over his body, the wide grin he use to wear all the time.

Lovino couldn't help but smile back. "Go ahead and eat." He tore the loaf in half, returning one half to the bag and giving the other to Feliciano.

"You have some too~" He made a move to tear his half again, but was quickly stopped by Lovino.

"Don't be an idiot, you need to eat. Plus, I already ate." He didn't care if he was lying, Feliciano needed food more than him.

"Fratellone... Please don't lie to me." Feliciano looked up at him with that sad gaze that seemed to deepen the hallows in his cheeks and darken the circles under his eyes.

He couldn't help but look over Feliciano's form, even though most of it was hidden by threadbare blankets, he could still make out the shape of his bony limbs. "No, Felici. I got this food for you, now do me a favor and eat it."

"Lovino... I haven't seen you eat in a long time. Won't you dine with me, it'll be as if we're home again with Grandpa." His smile returned as he thought of the happier memories.

"Fine, but only because we haven't eaten together in a long time, not because I'm hungry." He tore off the smallest piece he could manage and plopped it in his mouth. His eyes slid shut, trying to savor the wondrous taste of fresh bread. His stomach gave a silent rumble for more, which he ignored and hoped Feliciano didn't hear.

Beside him, he heard Feliciano moan. "It tastes so good. How did you get it?" He took another bite out of his hunk.

"I have my ways." Lovino separated a few tomatoes out and slipped them into the bag along with the other half of bread, saving them for Feliciano's breakfast.

Feliciano gasped, "Did you steal again?"

How ignorant could Feliciano be? He growled, "Of course, stupido! How else would I get _fresh_ bread? Buy it? I don't have any money!" Lovino immediately regretted raising his voice when he saw tears begin to form at the corner of his little brother's eyes. "Please, don't cry. I'm sorry I yelled at you," he said quickly._  
_

"S-Stealing is wrong! You shouldn't do it, you're better than that!" Feliciano hated the feeling of tears that pushed at the back of his eyes.

Lovino sighed softly and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Feliciano... But I'm not better than this. I have to keep food coming in, or you_ will_ die," he hated saying those words. "No matter how many hours I work at the farms, it does not pay enough to feed us both."

"B-But... Then don't feed me! Please, just stop stealing-" A fit of coughing cut him short, wracking his entire body with painful hacks, forcing him to hunch over and cover his mouth.

Lovino rubbed his younger brother's back as comfortingly as he could. It pained him to see Feliciano like this and knowing there was nothing he could do, hurt him even more. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Soon his coughing subsided, leaving Feliciano exhausted and made his lungs hurt. He carefully hid his blood-flecked hand against his chest. "Water," he rasped, wanting to rid his mouth of the metallic taste of blood that coated his tongue.

His older brother saw the water bucket was empty. "I'll be right back." He grabbed the bucket and sprinted to the stream on the other side of the barn, filled it quickly and wobbled as fast as he could back up the hill and into the barn.

Feliciano shakily dipped his cup into the water and brought it to his lips, drinking deeply. He swished the water in his mouth, finally ridding himself of the sick, coppery taste.

"Do you feel better?" Lovino couldn't keep the concern from his voice.

He tried to smile, but he could only manage a grimace. "Sì, grazie. I don't know what I'd do without you."

They both knew how things would be if Feliciano hadn't gotten sick. They'd both be working, like before. Lovino remembered the day Feliciano had first fallen sick, it was after a long day of working in the fields. Maybe the heat was too much that day or he was ignoring (Or probably hiding it from himself and others) how bad he was feeling until his body gave out and he fainted.

"Lovi," Feliciano broke the silence that had fallen over them. "Would you leave me if I never get better?"

"No," he said firmly and reached over to pat his hair, ruffling it roughly. "You may be an idiot... But you're still my little brother."

He stared at him, a smile finding its way back on his lips, immediately brightening his features. Lovino wasn't ready to be pulled into one of Feliciano's back-breaking hugs; he couldn't help but notice how the sickness had sapped most of his strength. "You're the greatest fratellone ever!"

Lovino rolled his eyes, unable to contain the smile that forced itself onto his face. "That's it, it's obviously bedtime for you."

"But I've done nothing, but sleep today! I want to talk with you more," Feliciano whined, sending him one of his most adorable pouts.

"Fine, but I'm tired and I'm going to sleep soon even if you don't." He settled himself on the makeshift cot with Feliciano, who immediately snuggled up against his chest.

"Were there any clouds in the sky today?" Feliciano asked, wrapping one of his arms around Lovino's waist and pillowing his head on his shoulder.

Lovino gave a soft hum before answering, "There was a few of the big puffy ones you like." He brought his hand around to feel Feliciano's forehead, noting the temperature. "I'm going to take you down to the pond in the morning for a bath, you're warmer than you ought to be."

"But the water's so cold," Feliciano whined. "And I feel fine!"

"Felici," he warned. "You're not getting out of it. Plus, don't you like it when I give you rides on my back." Lovino didn't mind when Feliciano curled up beside him, grumbling about the water. He felt like a teddy bear for the younger boy. Now that Feliciano was comfortably situated, he let his eyes close.

But before sleep could take him completely, he heard Feliciano call, "Lovi? Are you still awake?"

"No, I'm fucking asleep," he mumbled grumpily.

"Oh... I'll let you sleep," he said, pulling the blankets higher over them.

Lovino sighed heavily. "What is it, Felici?"

"Nothing... I just miss Grandpa."

He couldn't help but wince, the pain still too raw for him to really want to think about it, let alone speak of him, but this was Feliciano and he could never deny him anything. "Yeah, I miss him too."

"What would he say to us now?" His voice held a yearning for the old days.

"Probably tell us to keep our heads up, Fate has something special waiting for us— You know, some kind of shit like, he was always into that crap. Maybe even, life's a bitch."

Feliciano was silent for a moment, then the heavy weight lifted from his voice and he said, "You're right! Things are gonna get better real soon, maybe even tomorrow or the next day."

"Go to sleep," he said quietly. _God, I hope you're right._ Lovino heard the breathing beside him soften and he knew Feliciano was asleep.

"You're a real asshole for leaving us," he whispered to the darkness around him, knowing Feliciano couldn't hear his muttering. "I don't care if you're dead, that's no excuse for just...being gone. It's not fair that we have to suffer alone and miss you. And now that Feliciano's sick, I'm afraid of losing him too. I don't know whether to hate you or God, might as well just hate you both for doing this."

He felt the pressure behind his eyes grow, but he refused to give in. Letting his tears spill now would be like admitting defeat, and he was, if anything, stubborn. Although, he wasn't above crying to pull the heart-strings of some kind women or get a soft shopkeeper to let him off with a warning, but crying with real emotion is something this hot-headed Italian simply would not do, especially with his dear brother so near.

_'Just go to sleep,'_ he commanded himself, forcing his body to relax, but his thoughts would not keep still. _Please go to sleep!_

Images of his grandfather flitted across his mind, followed by memories of Grandpa Roma tutoring Feliciano while he watched them through the window. Lovino doesn't remember what it was like before Feliciano, when he was the only child, but he wasn't oblivious to the obvious favoritism Grandpa Roma showed for his younger brother. It never escaped his notice when Roma gave Feliciano that fond gaze that was nowhere to be seen as soon as he looked to Lovino. But he couldn't hate his grandfather for loving Feliciano more, nothing he could ever do would be enough to gain his grandfather's favor. He couldn't help the bitter envy that grew in his chest when he saw Feliciano, it often caused him to act cruel to little Felici, which got him in trouble with the grandfather tried so hard to please.

Everything changed when their Grandpa Roma was killed. Their grandfather's most trusted adviser, and his closest friend, told them they should run away from the home they grew up in and that if they stayed, they'd end up dead too. Lovino was only thirteen then and Feliciano was just eleven, and still couldn't dress himself properly without help. He took Feliciano and ran, not knowing how to survive, only wanted to keep his last living family member alive and with him.

The first week was hard, they were hungry and had no clue how to get food. The only thing that kept them from complete starvation was the small amount of money Lovino had hidden in his clothes, but it ran out too quickly. And the next week was even harder, with no money and no clue how to live on the streets, they were left to begging for food, which usually ended in them (Mostly Lovino, he would always make Feliciano run away without looking back) getting beaten by shopkeepers and officers. But somehow they managed to endure for six months and were starting to get the hang of things, when they met an old acquaintance...

_"Mr. Beilschmidt!" Feliciano immediately ran to the tall blonde, his trademark smile out in full force, with Lovino right behind him. The huge man's head turned from side to side, his gaze passing over the two children run towards him._

_Aldrich Beilschmidt regarded the two dirty boys with cold, blue eyes, their appearances so drastically he could not recognize them.__ "Who are you?"_

_"It's me, Feliciano!" He gave the tall man one of his looks that could melt hearts and make angels cry, pushing away his fear of the German man. "You worked with my grandfather."_

_"I've worked with many people, be more specific," his chilling voice didn't flatter. Even though Feliciano was doing his best to not be scared, he began to shake._

_"Don't pretend you don't remember us, potato-bastard," Lovino finally spoke up, pushing his little brother behind him. "You know us, you told us to run."_

_"I'm sorry, you have the wrong—"_

_"We are Feliciano and Lovino Vargas! Don't you dare fucking pretend you don't know that name!"_

_The only thing that gave away his surprise was the slight widening of his eyes. "You are not the Vargas children, they died," he said, a deadly tone slipped into his voice. "And if they are not, they will be soon."_

_He felt Feliciano's hand tug at the back of his shirt. "Let's get out of here," he whimpered in Lovino's ear._

_But suddenly, everything was making sense. Their grandfather's death. The reason they had to leave their home. It was all because this man wanted their grandfather's wealth. "You killed him, didn't you! You murderer__—" A hand clamped over his mouth, squeezing his cheeks painfully._

___"Do you want to keep living?" The German's face was closer than before. "I promised Augustus I wouldn't kill you, but I'm starting to regret that promise."_

___Lovino glared hatefully at him, refusing to back down without a fight. He bit into the hand that covered his mouth, savoring the metallic taste that filled his mouth and dripped down his chin._

___"Don't hurt him!" Feliciano beat weakly on the giant's arm, not trying to hurt him._

___Aldrich didn't even flinch at the pain as he tore his hand from Lovino's mouth, choosing instead the grab Feliciano's arm and twist it behind his back. "Maybe the better question is, do you want your brother to keep living?"_

___"Don't touch him, you fucker!" Lovino's voice didn't have half the force he wanted. Feliciano started to cry loudly, tears flowing from his beautiful honey-colored eyes. He couldn't stand it when Feliciano cried._

___"I gave you a chance to live by letting you go once. Now take my advice, forget what you were, it won't help you now. I'm giving you a warning this time, next time I see you, you'll be dead." The big German released Feliciano, pushing him towards Lovino._

___Lovino pulled his little brother close. His eyes burned into the clear blue Aldrich. "The next time you see me, you'll be the one dead, you bastard."_

___Aldrich's lips twitched into a cold smile. "I look forward to that day." And without another word, he turned and walked about, leaving him to comfort his crying_ brother.

Lovino jerked awake, not realizing his was sleeping in the first place, his vow of revenge echoing in his ears. It had been six years since he made that vow, and he hasn't been able to do much to fulfill it yet. He sighed and slowly relaxed again, focusing on the uneven breathing of Feliciano. It was too early for him to get up yet, although it's not like he could move anyway. Feliciano wrapped around him in such a way that it was impossible to get up without disturbing him. Since there was no other way for him to move, he rolled onto his side, letting his arm wrap around Feliciano's sleeping body. Even though he was sleeping, Feliciano snuggled closer against his chest. Lovino sighed a second time before shutting his eyes and letting sleep settle over him again.

* * *

**I made some changes to it and fixed some problems. Sorry to those who already read the older version.**

**-Windy**


	2. Chapter 2

When Feliciano woke, the space where his brother should be was painfully empty. The cold feeling of fear quickly over took him and he began to panic, looking around frantically for Lovino. Tears filled his eyes when he couldn't see his brother anywhere in the dimly lit barn.

"Lovino! Lovino! Lovino!" He struggled to pull himself into a sitting position.

At the sound of Feliciano's frantic calls, Lovino came running in, expecting to find the worse. "What happened?"

Feliciano had given up on trying to sit up and had curled into a ball, coughing and sobbing. His sobs degraded into violent hacking.

He immediately ran to comfort his brother, holding him against his chest and rocking him gently. He whispered in the younger's ear, "It's oaky, I'm here. Don't cry."

His younger brother clung to him, gripping his shirt tightly, stopping his tears that still flowed in favor of finishing his fit of coughing, until his was reduced to ragged breathing. He laid limp against Lovino, all the energy in his body draining.

Lovino hated it when Feliciano was hurting. He hated it even more if he might have been the one to cause it, or if he could do nothing to stop it. When Feliciano finished coughing, he asked, "What upset you this early in the morning?"

"I-I thought you left me," he sniffed.

"I told you I was never going to leave you," Lovino said gently. "You're my brother."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, wiping the last of the tears from his face.

"Forget all this shit about me leaving, you're stuck with me," he replied gruffly, remembering to put on his façade of meanness.

Feliciano couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I guess I am. Ti voglio bene, fratellone!" _I love you, big brother._

He looked away, trying to hide the blush that dusted his cheeks. "Whatever. Bath time for you." Lovino turned so his back to Feliciano.

Feliciano groaned, reluctantly climbing on to his brother's back. "I don't wanna," he whined, even as he settled himself.

"Yeah, yeah. There's a lot of things I don't want to do, but I do them anyway, just like you have to take a bath. No ifs, ands, or buts," Lovino said, standing up with ease, his arms hooked under Feliciano's skinny legs. Carefully, he picked his way through the dimly let space and out the rotting doors. Behind him, Feliciano giggled softly, pressing his face into the crook of Lovino's neck. He blew on his neck playfully, feeling the shudders that passed through the body below him.

"Stop that! It tickles," Lovino grumbled. "And why are you giggling like that?"

"Because I love when fratellone carries me on his back like this," he answered cheerfully. "Promise you'll still carry me like this when I'm better."

"No," Lovino growled automatically. "Why would I carry you if you can walk on you own damn feet? I'm not a fucking horse, you know."

"W-What? But you like it too when you give me rides," Feliciano cried.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath, a light flush rising on his cheeks. "That's not what I meant to say, Felici."

"What did you mean to say then?" Feliciano's voice cracked, like he was holding back tears.

"Fuck... Fine! I'll still give you these stupid rides when you're better." He couldn't help but cave to his brother's wants and needs.

"Promise~?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," he grumbled.

"Promise," Feliciano said firmly.

"Fine! I promise!"

"Promise to what~?"

Now he was just being fucked with, Lovino growled, "I promise to give you rides on my back even when you're better."

Feliciano gave a whoop of triumph. "I love you so much."

"Because I spoil you," he grumbled, unable to keep the blush from rising on his cheeks.

"That's not the only reason!" Feliciano slid off his back when Lovino finally reached the small pond at the bottom of the hill. "You take good care of me and bring food and clothes and other things too."

"Yeah, whatever," Lovino said as he helped Feliciano out of his clothing, setting them aside in a neat pile before helping him into the shallow water.

"I can get in by myself, you know." Feliciano pouted, but accepted the help, shivering in the water.

Lovino just shrugged, handing him a bar of soap to bath with and stripping off his own clothes. As he stepped into the water, he didn't notice the way Feliciano watched him, waiting to pounce. When he was somewhat in the water, Feliciano used his meager strength to throw him off-balance and dunk him under the water. He came up sputter and coughing, having accidentally swallowed a mouthful of water. "W-What the hell, you fucker!"

Feliciano couldn't answer through his uncontrollable giggles, only to have it transgress into a terrible fit of hacking. When he finally settled down, he gave Lovino a sheepish smile and said, "Sorry, Lovi. But you know I love you."

"Oh just shut the fuck up and hold still," he ordered, attacking Feliciano's hair with the bar of soap.

"Ah, fratellone! Not so rough," Feliciano whined when Lovino gave his hair a sharp tug.

"Then you should stop dunking me every time we bathe together," he grumbled.

"You were more fun when we were younger," Feliciano said quietly.

Lovino pretended he didn't hear that, but his scrubbing turned more into gentle stroking. "Is there anything we need from the market?"

It was usually left to Feliciano to handle inventory of everything they have (Lovino only lets him do it so he won't feel useless, but he already knows what they have and need), telling Lovino when they needed something or if something broke and needed to be repaired by either themselves or bought new.

"Hm, let's see." Felicicano chewed on his lip as he thought. "We don't have anymore candles and cheese, but what we really need is pasta."

"I'll get the cheese today, but I won't make any promises with the candles. And I've already told you, pasta is expensive. We could only get it before because we had jobs."

"That's oaky," Feliciano answered cheerfully, turning and rubbing soap into Lovino's hair. "But, um, could I ask you a favor?"

Feliciano wasn't looking at him with his usual half-lidded gaze, but with his amber eyes wide open. He couldn't help but narrow his eyes in responds, immediately suspicious of what Feliciano would possibly ask of him. "What do you want?"

The smaller teen flinched at his sibling's rough tone, hoping he wasn't too selfish to ask for something. "Well, um... I was just wondering if you could..."

He grew impatient with Feliciano's hesitation. "Spit it out or I won't even consider doing anything for you." That was a false threat, but Feliciano didn't know that.

"Ah, nevermind," Feliciano said quickly, ducking under the water and rinsing the suds from his hair.

Lovino jerked Feliciano back to the surface. "Don't give that crap, Feliciano. Dimmi quello che vuoi." _Tell me what you want._

"A-A book," he squeaked.

Lovino frowned, looking down on his brother, and asked simply, "Why?"

"Well, it's so boring to stay inside laying down all day with nothing to do," he said in a small voice.

Even though, he rather have a canvas and some paints than a book, but both those items were so expensive and hard to come by for people who lived like them.

He stared at him sadly, knowing what he really wanted wasn't a book. "I'll see what I can do. Books aren't easy to get." _'But paints are even harder to get,' _he thought, not daring to say it aloud.

"Don't steal one."

Lovino opened his mouth to say he wasn't going to, but that would be lying, so he simply kept his mouth shut.

"Please, I don't want something that you stole from someone else," Feliciano pleaded.

"Alright, I'll buy one," he lied.

Feliciano beamed at him, not catching the lie. "Thank you so much!"

He nodded, rinsing the soap from his hair. _When did it become so easy to lie to him? Actually, when did I become so good at lying not even my brother, the person I've known since birth, can tell if I lie anymore? You're turning into a fucking bastard._ Lovino stepped out of the water, using the towel he had brought down before to dry off, roughly rubbing the thoughts from his head. Beside him, Feliciano also climbed out of the water, although he was more unsteady on his feet. He took the towel from his brother and began to dry himself, but the trembling of his muscles did not escape Lovino's notice as he pull clothes on.

"Sit," he ordered, taking the towel from him. "Now." He cut off any protest from the younger.

Feliciano, seeing it was hopeless to argue (And already too tired to do so), slowly sat on the cool rocks of the ground, letting his older brother dry him and help him into his clothes afterwards. He couldn't begin to pretend that simply bathing had not exhausted him, or quiet the sickening wheezing of his lungs.

Lovino picked him up, choosing to carry him against his chest with Feliciano's legs wrapped around his waist and his arms around his neck. He held the frail, bony body of his dearest brother as gently as he could, afraid of breaking him just by holding him too tightly. Feliciano pressed close to his brother's warmth, hiding his face in Lovino's neck.

Carefully, he made his way up the hill and into the abandoned barn. "How are you feeling?" Lovino set him on the pallet they called their bed, draping all the blankets they had over him.

"A bit tired," he replied sleepily. "Are you going out now?"

"Yes." Lovino watched him closely, suspecting he was feeling worse than he let on.

"Oh," Feliciano sighed softly. "Will you do something before you go...?"

Lovino's natural sense of suspicion bubble up again, and he narrowed his eyes. "Depends," he answered automatically, even though he really would do anything for Feliciano.

"Sing for me? Like Grandpa use to," Feliciano whispered timidly, watching his sibling's reaction.

Lovino stared at Feliciano, his default scowl taking of his features as he took in his younger brother's pale face and gaunt cheeks. Finally, he sighed and said, "Fine, but just this once."

A smile broke over his lips, lighting his face up like sunshine on a cloudy day. "Veh, grazie."

"Just shut up and don't say a word," Lovino grumbled. Pulling up an old milking stool and clearing his throat, he began to sing:

_Fa la ninna, fa la nanna_

_Nella braccia della mamma_

_Fa la ninna bel bambin,_

_Fa la nanna bambin bel,_

_Fal la ninna, fa la nanna_

_Nella braccia della mamma._

His voice flowed melodiously over the words, floating in the air before settling over Feliciano, wrapping around him like a blanket of fine silk. It wasn't surprising that after repeating the sweet lullaby a few times, his beloved fratellino was fast asleep.

With one last looking over the depressing inside of the barn, he slipped out into the warming October air. It would be winter sooner than he would like, and he'd need to start preparing as best he could if they were going to survive. And with a determined bounce in his step, he set off quickly to the market square.

...oOo...

Lovino stuck to the shadows of an alleyway, mentally going off the things he needed to get. _Cheese. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll get some hard bread or a few dried tomatoes and fruits. And that...book._ He grimaced, that wasn't going to be easy to get. For one, he didn't have enough money to buy one, not that he was planning to, and he was going to use the few coins he did have to buy the cheese.

_Oaky. Here's the plan: Get the things you need first and then, wait by the bookshop for someone to come out. Snatch the book they have and get the fuck out of there. Got it? Yep, sounds good._ Lovino headed off to the small cheese shop, fingering the coins in his pocket regretfully.

Slowly approaching the shop, he noticed a blonde girl about his age was at the counter, instead of the grouchy Swiss man who usually was there. "Ciao," he called.

The girl turned to him, her two flaxen braids swinging at the movement. "H-Hello."

He put on one of his most charming smiles, choosing to ignore the German accent in her soft voice. "Lovely weather today, yes?"

She nodded timidly. "Ja, it's a very beautiful day."

"The day isn't the only beautiful thing I see," Lovino said cheerily, taking her hand and kissing it.

"O-Oh," she squeaked, a heavy blush gracing her pale cheeks. "T-Thank you."

"Anything for a pretty girl." He knew he must have looked poor and tattered, but she didn't seem like the type of girl to hold it against him. "My name's Romano, by the way," Lovino lied and pressed his lips to her hand again before releasing it.

An even brighter blush colored her cheeks. "I'm Lili. Nice to meet you," she said softly.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing here all alone?" He glanced around, as if he was checking to make sure no danger was near.

"My bruder chased after a thief and told me to watch the product," she replied, smiling shyly at him.

Lovino put on a look of distress. "That's terrible! But that's no excuse to leave you alone, what if someone bad came along," he laced his voice with concern, not feeling it in the slightest.

Lili paled slightly. "I-I'm sure Bruder will be back soon...I hope."

"I will wait with you until he returns. I would hate to see something happen to you." He leaned against the counter.

"I'll be alright! I don't want to be a bother to you," Lili said quickly, she was obviously a very kind-hearted girl and naïve too. Perfect.

"No, I insist." Lovino smiled gently at her.

She returned the smile. "Thank you. You are very kind."

He almost winced, he hated charming truly kind people, but that didn't stop him from doing whatever it takes to get a little extra cheese or a bigger loaf of bread. "No need for thanks. I'm just doing what anyone else would do."

Lili opened her mouth to protest, but closed it quickly. "I'm still taking advantage of your kindness. How can I repay you?"

There were many things he could have asked for as payment for his 'kindness', but he chose the least taxing for her, this naïve little girl knew nothing of his lies and trickery.

"A kiss will do."

He'd never seen someone blush as quickly as this little milkmaid did, her entire face turned a lovely shade of pink. "W-What?"

Lovino smirked, not evilly, just amused. "Yes, a kiss. Unless that is too much."

She shifted nervously, and said in a small voice, "Alright, just make sure my brother doesn't see you. He'll kill you."

"Don't worry about me, I'm a fast runner," he said with a wink, but he still glanced around to make sure her brother hadn't returned, deciding the coast was clear.

Lovino gently cupped her cheek and tilted her face up. '_Green eyes,'_ he mused. Slowly he brought their lips together in a sweet, innocent kiss, and before pulling away completely, he pressed kisses to her cheeks. "Grazie, bella."

"You there! What are you doing so close to my sister?" A gruff, irritated voice sounded from behind them.

"B-Bruder!" Lili pressed away from him. "We were just talking. Romano here was keeping me company while I waited for you."

Lili's brother narrowed his eyes to glare at Lovino. "Well, I'm back. Now be on your way."

"Actually, I'm not done here." He scowled at the other man. "I would like to buy some of your cheese."

"You got money?" The man glared at him even harder, as if daring him to not have any money.

Lovino dug in his pocket and retrieved a few silver coins. "Here," he grumbled.

Before the man could take the money, a smaller hand clasped over his. "I've got this one, Vash. Don't worry, he'd very kind and won't cheat us."

Vash opened his mouth, but closed it. And with a single curt nod, he moved to the back of their shop. Never once did he take his eyes off Lovino, as if, if he looked away, everything would be gone, including his sister.

"You didn't have to do that," he said softly, feeling sick from the generosity shown to him.

She smiled sweetly. "Bruder likes to hassle people if he doesn't think their money is enough, I'm just saving you from being yelled at." Lili took the money from his hand and counted it, before choosing a round of cheese from the shelf behind her and handed it to him.

"Isn't this—"

"Thank you for chatting with me, Romano. I hope you'll come back soon." She gave him a look, then smiled again.

He shoved the large round into his sack, then grinned back. "Thanks, Lili. Until we see each other again, ciao," Lovino purred and winked at her.

"Ciao," she squeaked, a pale flush tinting her cheeks.

He walked backwards out of the shop, before turning on his heel and walking away quickly. As soon as he was out of sight, he let the smile slip from his face. Was it really oaky to let himself take that girl's kind offering? The sack in his hand seemed to grow heavier, along with that sick, slimy feeling in his stomach. Lovino hated feeling guilty, and the worse thing someone like him could feel was guilt. _Fuck that girl, she was stupid and now I have enough cheese to last a while._ He glanced back the way he came, silently whispering in his head, _'Thank you.'_

Using the many alleyways and crowds of people, he managed to stay away from the bakery where he would most likely be recognized. It was a risk even going to that part of the market, too many people had seen him yesterday, but Feliciano needed food and with winder coming, they would need more than just food to keep him alive.

_'He needs a doctor,'_ the voice in his head whispered as he 'relieved' a man of his coin purse. _'I can't pay for a fucking doctor! Goddamnit... he's going to die, isn't he...'_

Lovino was no fool, he noticed the hidden blood splattered hands, a fever that was closer and closer to growing out of his control, ghost-like pallor, hoarse voice that was once sweet and gentle. All Lovino wanted was for his brother to be happy and healthy again, was that too much to ask? Yes, yes it was, apparently. Life simply couldn't give you what you wanted, that would be too easy. _'Unless you're_ rich,' Lovino thought bitterly._ 'But even money has its limits. Fuck.' _In the midst of his thoughts, he didn't notice that he had wandered into the flow of people until he nearly got run over by a cart carrying a load of wood.

"Watch it, kid," a burly man yelled at him, not stopping his cart.

"No, you fucking watch it! I'm just minding my own damn business, you're the one trying to fucking kill me! Fuck off." He stomped away, cursing himself for getting distracted like that. Taking his time to calm down, he wandered past shops and carts, barely glancing at the people selling the wares around him. With speed nearly too fast for the human eye, he snatched an apple from the passing fruit cart. As soon as he was a good distance away, he devoured the apple quickly. _Oaky, fuck the fruit and bread, I'll get it tomorrow. Let's get a damn book and go back to Felici._

It wasn't long before he found himself outside the shop that sold books. From his place across the road as he wait for his prey, he could see all the precious literary jewels sitting neatly on large wood shelves. To even buy one of the larger books, he would probably have to start selling his body on the street, he mused idly over the idea, letting his face become blank and indifferent.

_Ding._ The bell over the door announced the arrival of what, or who he was waiting for. An average sized, blonde man exited the shop, a brown paper bag tucked under his arm. Lovino did a quick once over of his 'prey'. _Blonde, he is not originally from the local area. Smartly dressed, he must have money. Pale skin, usually only people from far north can be that white. What the fuck are those, caterpillars or a disfigurement? No matter._ His prey didn't didn't look like he had any hidden strength. He would have to do, because Lovino didn't have any patience to wait for a different prey.

_1, 2...3._ He took off at full speed, slamming all his weight into the unsuspecting man and sent them toppling to the ground.

"Bloody hell!" The man's arms shot to to catch himself, sending the book flying quite a few feet.

_'Perfect,'_ he thought with a smirk. Quickly getting to his feet, he scooped up the book and— A large hand clamped on the back of his shirt, shoving him into the wall.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Lovino struggled against that iron strength, but he refused to give up. "Let go, you fucker!" He gasped when his arm pulled painfully behind his back.

"So you can run? I don't think so, little thief," the stronger man purred in his ear.

That voice send chills down his spine, and fear spilled into his blood. It was the butcher, the creep had eyed him since he first walked by his shop. He began screaming profanities at the top of his lungs, hoping the fear wouldn't make it into his voice.

"You might as well let the lad go." The blonde haired man had recovered from his fall and walked over to Lovino and his soon to be tormentor. "No harm done."

"No can do. I've tried to catch this little thief for a long time." The butcher frowned, reaching up his free hand to fix the slightly disheveled, blood flecked mask that covered his eyes. Turning himself to face the smaller man, taking Lovino with him.

"He was stealing from _me_, and I would like to deal with him myself." The man's eyes darkened into a menacing glare, and his posture radiated authority.

Lovino tried to stop the shaking taking over his limbs and he was sure both men could hear the pounding of his heart. When the green-eyed man's gaze caught his own, he reduced himself to fast spoken apologies in Italian, filled with plenty of cures and swears, all the while glaring as threateningly as he could. He felt tears prick his eyes, but he wouldn't lower himself to tears in front of these bastards.

"Would you shut up!" The man brought his large hand to cover his mouth.

A smirk pulled at his lips and then he sank his teeth into the offending hand, relishing the screech of pain and taste of blood for a split second before he tore himself from the man's grip. But a well placed kick sent him sprawling to the ground before he could get far.

The blood stained, masked man chuckled darkly. "I like them feisty." He picked Lovino back up and drove his fist into his stomach, then let the now unconscious Italian crumple to the ground.

"That was completely unnecessary," the blonde growled, kneeling to examine Lovino closer.

"He's loud and he bit me," the other said, chuckling with a wicked grin on his face. "That's more than enough reason for me."

Swinging one of Lovino's arms over his shoulder, he awkwardly hoisted Lovino on to his back, surprised to find him extrememly light for a boy his age. "I do not care."

"Fine, I'll let you have him this time. I have time to wait." He leered at the little Italian, reaching out and catching a lock of dark brown hair between his grimey fingers. "Just don't break him too much before I can get to him."

The other leaned down carefully and retrieved his book from the ground. "No promises," he said simply and walked away, leaving the other man laughing behind him.

* * *

**Translations:**

_**Go to sleep, go to sleepy**_

_**In the arms of your mother**_

_**Go to sleep, lovely child,**_

_**Go to sleep, child so lovely,**_

_**Go to sleep, go to sleepy**_

_**In the arms of your mother.**_

_**Sorry the long wait, but you get an extra long chapter from it so it's not all bad. Thank you for reading so far.**_

_**-Windy**_


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur continued to stare at the teen lying in the bed, while he sat in a chair, waiting for him to regain consciousness. Just from where he sat, he could see the young man was very poorly fed, his skin pulled tightly over his bones, showing every single angle. He examined the boy's hands and arms to find them so thin, he could nearly wrap his thumb and first finger around the thickest part of his arm. Arthur was willing to bet that he would probably be able to see the teen's ribs; not that he would ever invade the young man's privacy to check. He let his eyes come to a rest on the Italian's (Or at least he thought he was Italian, maybe Spanish) face. There was unmistakable beauty in the smooth plains of his lightly tanned face, even with the toll that lack of proper food had taken from his body.

"A real beauty," he murmured to himself, resting a hand on the young man's cheek.

He almost couldn't believe that this was the thief that had sent him sprawling into the dirt; he looked so small and weak. But it was obvious this young man had strength, just from the look in his eyes, Arthur could tell; he was tougher than one would think. He was also clever, although luck seemed against him. That burning defiance in his hazel eyes, even when he was in danger, never faded but only grew as the fear grew. It was interesting.

"What use would you have for a book?" He asked the sleeping body, startled when he began to move.

"Ugh," the young man groaned. "Fuck..."

"Please, refine from cursing." Arthur frowned.

The teen jerked up, scrambling as far, and fast, away from him as he could until he bumped into the wall. "What the hell?"

Arthur sighed, watching the man's eyes flick quickly over the large room before settling his eyes on Arthur. For a moment, Arthur was surprised by how calm the stare was, but what he didn't know was that Lovino was deciding whether he should or shouldn't tackle him to the ground and run, or even worse, use the knife he kept in his pocket for protection.

"Explain why I'm here, bastard," he ordered, watching Arthur warily.

"Well you tried to steal my book and was caught by that creepy brute who knocked you unconscious. I then picked you up and took you to my home," he said patiently.

"I figured that much out, asshole. What I'm asking is, why didn't you just leave me?"

Arthur blinked at him, not sure why he did help him. It's not like Arthur was a good Samaritan, and he most certainly didn't make it a habit to befriend thieves, or fowl-mouthed, ill-mannered young men. And this teenager was both.

"I don't know," he said, scowling at how stupid he sounded.

The man's lip curled in disgust. "I don't want your damn pity."

"And you don't have it." He eyed the younger man with carefully practiced indifference, and said, "We haven't properly met."

"No we haven't, and I don't care," the other growled.

"My name is Arthur Kirkland." He held out a hand towards the man across from him, only to withdraw it quickly when he saw the other's whole body tense.

The Italian glared viciously at him, not saying a word, just staring at him. He couldn't help but feel unsettled by the way those eyes captured his every move. They seemed to be waiting - no, challenging him to do something. What they were expecting, he had no clue.

"Romano."

Arthur blinked at him. "What?"

"My name, you stupid fuck." He eyed Arthur distrustfully.

He glared at 'Romano', not believing him for a second. "I do not like being lied to, boy."

The young man's eyes lit up with surprise, before a smirk curled on his lips. "You're a smart bastard. How could you tell? And I'm nineteen, fucker, and call me 'boy' again, I dare you," he threatened.

_How did I know?_ Uncertainty was not a feeling he experienced often (if ever), and he loathed the feeling of it. "You're too clever to tell me your name that easily," he said after a long pause, celebrating the somewhat sensible explanation.

A scowl took over his features. "I'm not clever. If I was, I wouldn't be here."

"Why?" Arthur couldn't help but ask.

His scowl deepened, already finding reasons to dislike the bastard in front of him. "None of your business, eyebrow bastard."

"I would prefer if you called me by my name, little thief." He frowned, his patience was wearing thin rather quickly.

"You can take your name and shove it up your ass where it belongs."

"Listen here, you little fuck, I am trying to be civil towards you," he growled, standing so quickly his chair it fell back. "Now give me your name."

The man smirked triumphantly at him, not phased by the explosive display of anger. "Finally."

"Finally what?" He fist clenched at his sides.

"You're acting real."

All his anger drain from him, replaced by curiosity as he stared at the younger man in front of him. "Explain."

Lovino leaned his head back against the wall, watching him. "That cold, indifferent mask you're carrying around."

He frowned, but knew what this stranger was talking about. But how he had seen through it, he wanted to know; only his closest enemy could see past it. "I see," he said as he set his chair back up.

The strange young man glanced at the window to find the sun setting. "Shit," he exclaimed as he scrambled off the bed.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm leaving."

"So soon?" He asked, sounding surprised, only to kick himself for letting himself sound like that. It's not like he could stay, could he?

The young man's eyes flicked to him, watching distrustfully. "Do you not realize how dangerous the streets are after sunset?"

He didn't really know, but no doubt, they weren't exactly pleasant. "Then stay the night," he offered, startling himself, only to convince himself it was the gentleman in him talking.

"No." The young man grabbed the sack that Arthur had placed at the foot of the bed. "I'll take my chances."

"Why risk it if you know something bad might happen?"

"Because I'm not clever," he said simply, heading to the bedroom door.

"Why?" Arthur followed after him.

Lovino growled, this bastard asked too many questions for his own good. "None of your damn business, asshole." He traveled along the hall to another, then another and another.

A sigh sounded from behind him. "I'll show you out."

He turned and reluctantly followed the blonde-haired man in a different direction, only grumbling mild insults under his breath. He picked up speed when he finally spotted the way out.

"I can offer you a carriage."

"I don't want it. Tell me how far I am from the damn market."

Arthur explained that he was many miles from the market and with the fading light, he wouldn't make it to the market by that time. Lovino let out the most frustrated sigh he could manage. '_The things I do for that idiot,'_ he thought.

"Who?" Arthur startled him out of his mental spacing.

_Shit, I said that out loud._ He quickly said, "No one. Let me borrow a horse." And gestured to the stable he saw not too far away.

"You can ride?" Arthur asked.

He hated the look of surprise that Arthur gave him. "Wipe that stupid look off your face, just because I'm not fucking rich doesn't mean I don't know how to ride a fucking horse."

"It's just... Follow me," Arthur said as he led him around the large house.

Arthur's estate was bigger than he originally thought. In the fading light, he could see not too far away a forest started. He had a good idea where he was on the map in his head and with a horse, he could make it to Feliciano in a short amount of time, but that would mean he would have to come back. _Great, just what I need, he'll probably have me arrested._

"Hey, Ladrón," Arthur nearly yelled at him to get his attention, resorting to recalling the few words of Spanish he knew.

"What? Why are you talking to me in Spanish, and 'Ladrón' isn't my name," he growled.

"So you are Spanish? And I would call you by your name, but I don't seem to know it," Arthur snarked at him, holding the reigns of a lovely dapple-gray horse.

Embarrassment welled at the bottom of his stomach. "Shut up, fucker. I'm Italian," he growled, swinging up into the saddle. It had been six years since he last touched a horse, hopefully he could still ride. "I'll return her tomorrow."

"You better, she's my favorite." Arthur stared up at him, making him shift uncomfortably. He hated being stared at.

"Why the hell would you give me your favorite horse? I know you're not stupid, but really? You're letting a thief borrow your favorite horse?" Lovino glared at him.

"Yes," he answered, as if it were that simple.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not clever," Arthur threw his own words in his face.

His glare grew more heated, annoyance radiating off him and his voice as he said, "You're a real bastard."

"So I'm told."

Lovino huffed and kicked the horse into a walk, getting use to the familiar gait before picking up the pace into a full gallop. Leaving Arthur to stare after him.

"Looks like I finally have something interesting to look forward to," Arthur whispered to the cooling air.

...oOo...

When Lovino finally arrived back at the barn, the sun had long slipped under the horizon and the moon had just begun to rise. He jumped from the horse's back, carelessly tying it to a rotten post, before hurrying into the barn to his sibling.

"Feliciano," he called warily, expecting his brother to start yelling and crying about how worried he was.

A hoarse voice came from their bed, "Lovi..no..."

_That does not sound good. Fuck! The gods must hate me._ He rushed over to his brother's side, nearly tripping over some wood, and pressed his hand to his sibling's forehead. "Mio dio," he whispered. Feliciano's fever had returned with a vengeance, making his entire body burn with internal fire.

Lovino grabbed the bucket, thankfully it still had water in it, and dipped a tattered rag into it, then pressed it to his little fratello's hot skin.

"Where...were you?" Feliciano coughed weakly.

"Mi dispiace, mi dispiace," he murmured repeatedly, horrified by his own inability to help.

After many moments, Feliciano fell into a fitful sleep, leaving Lovino to wallow in his guilt. He tried to convince himself that he was atoning for his uselessness by caring for his brother while he slept, but that did nothing for the deep self-loathing that slinked into his thoughts, slowly eroding any thoughts of being a good brother and coated every thought with blame.

_'You're a bastard! If you had been here, maybe he wouldn't be so sick like this, or he at least wouldn't have gotten this bad again! Terrible brother, Feliciano deserves better than this fucking shit,'_ he berated himself ruthlessly. Even if, he had gotten there at his usual time, Feliciano still would have been half delusional with fever. Why? Because Fate's a bitch like that.

Lovino stayed like that all night, sitting beside his brother's bed, pressing a cool cloth to his heated skin. He had slipped off all of Feliciano's clothes to help cool him down, but the fever was persistent and wouldn't leave his body just yet. And by morning, Lovino was completely exhausted, so worried by his younger brother's state of health that he didn't remember the horse he had borrowed until he made a trip to the stream for fresh water, and by that time it was late in the morning.

"Fucking horse." He glared at her, but all she did was flick an ear dismissively at him, not bothering to raise her head from munching on the sweet, overgrown grass. "I bet Felici would love you..."

When he returned inside, found Feliciano blinking dully at him. "How are you feeling?" He tried not to sound too concerned.

"Thirsty," Feliciano rasped.

He quickly dipped a cup into the water and brought it to his lips, giving him a long drink. "Better?"

"Si, grazie," he answered, his voice sounding a little cleaner.

"Do you think you can eat?" Lovino found the bag that held the left over bread and tomatoes, only to remember the sack with the round of cheese that he had thrown to the side when he rushed in last night.

Feliciano gave a tired nod, tearing off a bit of bread and chewing slowly. Even sickness couldn't stop the smile that spread weakly across his face at the still semi-fresh bread. It wasn't long before he began tearing hungrily into the half loaf, accepting the slices of cheese Lovino offered him.

He watched silently as Feliciano ate, taking nothing for himself and ignoring that pangs of hunger in his own stomach, or the nagging fatigue that was giving him a headache.

When Feliciano finished eating, Lovino simply held out a tomato that he longed to eat.

Taking the red fruit and biting into it, Feliciano asked, "So what happened to make you stay out so late?"

"Nothing important. Did you press your body too hard again? Is that why I came back to find you nearly crazy with fever again?" He settled Feliciano with a stern stare.

The younger winced, and said weakly, "No..."

"Don't you dare fucking lie to me," he growled.

"I... All I wanted to do was clean up a little and be useful," Feliciano burst out.

"Dammit, Feliciano!" He bit his tongue before he continued, taking a deep breath through his nose. "What do I always tell you?"

"Rest, rest, rest. I know, fratello," Feliciano whined, pouting like a child.

"So listen to me, dammit! I don't tell you these things just to hear my own fucking voice!"

His sibling hung his head guiltily. "I know...Sorry..."

"You better be, or I might not show you the surprise," Lovino's voice took on one of its rare playful tones.

Feliciano looked up at him curiously, but the look of weariness never left the lines of his face, and the light that had always glowed in his amber eyes had dimmed. "Surprise?"

He nodded. _Smile, please, smile._ "Wait here," he said softly. One of the perks to living in a barn, it was easy to bring in large things, or animals in this case. Lovino opened the door wide enough for the horse before he walked out to the mare. She looked up at him expectantly, and followed him as he led her inside.

"A pony," Feliciano gasped, honestly surprised by the horse now standing in the middle of their living space.

The mare blinked at him and leaned down to snuffle the bare foot that poked out from underneath the blankets.

"Hey!" Feliciano giggled and quickly pulled his foot back under the covers. "How did you get her?"

"I'm just borrowing her and I have to return her soon, but I thought I might as well show her to you," he grumbled, patting the horse's rump.

She sniffed the hand Feliciano held out to her, lipping his palm softly. "That's sad, she's a sweet horsey."

Lovino nodded, watching closely as the horse brushed her nose against his sibling's cheek, letting himself smile when Feliciano giggled again and patted her cheek.

"But you didn't answer my question."

He frowned; Feliciano was having one of his rare moments of extreme seriousness. "What?"

His little brother looked up at him, amber eyes never leaving his face. "How did you get her?"

"A strange turn of events."

Feliciano suddenly smiled. "Things are turning around for us, don't you see?"

"No. How did you get that from a fucking horse?" Lovino gave him a confused look.

His smile widened, like it was obvious. "Well, the person who let you borrow this horsey must really want you to come back."

There was a stunned silence, before Lovino burst out laughing, leaning against the horse as he laughed himself silly. "You really are stupid," he said once he recovered from his fit of laughter. "He let me borrow her because I can't steal such a beautiful animal."

"I am not stupid!" Feliciano pouted. "And I know that he wants you to come back."

"Whatever. I'm taking this fucking horse back before the sun gets any higher in the sky. You are not to move, unless you need to piss, got it?" He ordered.

Feliciano nodded weakly, staring sadly at the horse and gave it one last pet, and said, "Arrivederci, Miss Horse."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll be back soon. If you get hungry eat some cheese or tomatoes. I know you probably still feel like shit, so try to sleep and I'll be back as fast as I can."

Again, he nodded and sent a small reassuring smile his way. "I'll be fine, fratellone." He knew that he wouldn't exactly be fine; he could still feel the sickness raging inside him.

Lovino slowly nodded, scowling his usually scowl to hide the concern growing even large in him. "Alright. I'll see you soon," He said before leading the horse out and closing the door. Hauling himself into the saddle, he set off at a steady trot. He avoided all the main roads, they were likely to be crowed and poor boys didn't last long on pretty horses like this one, and used only the ones he knew would be less traveled, even if it meant getting there would take longer.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Ladrón (Spanish): Thief**

**Fratellone: Big Brother**

**Fratello: Brother**

**Fratellino: Little brother**

**Updates might come much faster. I've already started on the next chapter. Thank you for reading.**

**-_Windy_**


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur had read the same sentence over and over for at least a half hour now. It wasn't often he couldn't find himself able to settle his thoughts by reading a good book, it was so rare that he didn't remember the last time he had felt such unrest. '_It's that irritating boy,'_ he growled in his head when, for what seemed the millionth time, those fiery hazel eyes flashed across his mind's eyes.

His night's dreams were plagued with that young man's presence in them, when he finally got to sleep that is. He couldn't help but feel strangely drawn to him, and not many people, if any, made him feel so...out of control. It irritated him to no end.

_'It's only the mystery and challenge the boy presents that attracts you, Arthur. You're just bored and this is just like with Francis and nothing more,'_ he tried to convince himself. Francis has been the only one to leave him breathless from yelling (And other things that Arthur will never admit to doing) and seething with anger, but this was different. That frog could push his buttons until he could no longer control his anger, but this stranger had done absolutely nothing expect curse at him, yet he felt like he had to do something for him and help him in some way. _'Like give him my bloody favorite horse! He better bring her back unharmed,' _he growled internally.

"Or what? Are you going to have me killed, bastard?" A familiar voice floated through his open window.

He looked up, his eyes wide with shock, causing a smirk to form on the young man's lips. "Bloody hell!" The book fell from his lap as he glared at the man, much to the other's amusement, not that it showed, but he could feel the other gloating for startling him. "Could you not have knocked, git?"

"I could have."

"Why didn't you?" He let out an exasperated sigh.

The boy only gave him an indifferent stare, bordering on boredom. "You talk to yourself. A lot."

Blood drained from his face as he stared in horror. "How long have you been standing there?"

"A while." He picked at his nails, seemingly oblivious to his distress. "Most of it was too quiet for me to hear, expect for that last bit. But all in all, you sound like a crazy motherfucker."

He glared at him, but still felt relieved to know that was all he heard. "I do not sound crazy."

"Did you even realize you were talking, bastard?"

"Well...no."

"And so, I prove my point." The smirk on his lips curled up even more.

"Shut the hell up and get in here, you insufferable stranger," he growled, only to cry out in protest when the young man hauled himself up and through the window. "I have a door!"

"I know. It's easier to just climb in," the young man said when he was safely inside.

Arthur just stared at him incredulously, you'd think he had done something astonishing. "Since when has climbing through a window ever been easier than opening a bloody door?"

"The door is way the hell over there and the window is right here, that's fucking when," the young man growled, shifting his eyes nervously around his bedroom.

Now that Arthur could look at him closer, he could see the exhaustion in the lines of his face, sharpening all the angles of his face. In fact, the man's entire body showed how frayed his stamina was, and the way he leaned against the wall only supported his growing theory: The strange boy was dead tired and probably hungry too.

"Are you oaky?" He asked slowly, even though it was obvious to him that he wasn't.

"I'm fine," Lovino snapped sharply, glaring suspiciously at the blonde.

"Are you hungry? When was the last time you ate?"

He opened his mouth to tell him off, but just as he began to talk, his stomach rumbled loudly, as if to answer for him. "It doesn't matter," he said quietly, not able or willing to deny the answer his stomach had given, because in truth, he hadn't eaten a full meal in days and the last thing he consumed was a single apple.

Arthur slowly stood, hyper-aware of those hazel eyes watching his every move. "I am going to have lunch, please join me."

Lovino didn't say anything, but followed him without a word when Arthur led him through his house and to the kitchen. He had learned long ago to never, ever refuse a free meal, or any food at all for that matter.

_He must really be hungry._ For some reason, the thought of this young man starving disturbed him. He didn't think much of the poor or less fortunate, they weren't any of his business, but this boy, only one year younger than him, was on the streets alone (he assumed) and obviously; things weren't going too well for him. "You didn't answer my last question."

"What was it?"

"When was the last time you ate?" Arthur repeated patiently.

"I...I don't remember. Depends on what you call eating, I guess," he said nonchalantly, knowing that if he told the truth, it'd probably gain some pity from Arthur and get him more food. He may hate being pitied, but it came in handy when he wanted something. "I think I ate an apple yesterday."

"That's all?" Arthur frowned. _No wonder the boy looks so emaciated. He probably doesn't eat but once a day, and maybe not everyday either._ He immediately set to work on laying out food on the small breakfast table that he used for every meal, unless he was holding a party, only then did he use the large dinning room.

"Please sit down. You look tired," he said, and gestured towards the two chairs.

"Whatever. You don't have to act so fucking polite, it's disgusting and makes you look like you have a stick up your ass."

Arthur let a scowl turn down the corners of his mouth, and he growled, "Put your arse in a chair and shut up."

"That's more like it, bastard," he said victoriously, finally sitting down in the chair closest to the door. It didn't take long for him to devour everything that was set on the plate before him.

"Was it good?" He asked hopefully. Francis always says his cooking was terrible.

"It tasted like shit. Every single damn thing you gave me was fucking burnt and bland as dirt. I'm not sure that could even be considered food, half of it didn't even look edible. That shit isn't fit to feed dogs," he said with no mercy on Arthur's feelings.

"If you didn't like it, why the hell did you eat it?" Arthur burst out before Lovino could continue to crush his hopes.

"Because I am hungry," Lovino stared intensely at him, not allowing any emotion on to his face. "You may not understand hunger, but I do and I can't afford to turn down any food given. I am lower than a dog in that aspect."

Arthur suddenly felt guilty, and wanted to look away from those blank eyes, but he forced himself to meet the young man's gaze. Not only had he been rude, but also selfish to the first person he had actually held a conversation with in weeks. "I'm sorry."

The man's face twisted into the beginnings of a rueful smile. "As far as I know, sorry has never done anything, so don't bother saying it."

He wanted to say something - anything to break the thick silence that had fallen over them. He fidgeted, unable to find his voice. _Oh, great on, Arthur. you were a complete arse to him and now he won't talk to you. God, I hate silence._

Surprisingly, Lovino was the first on to speak. "You're English, what the hell are you doing in Italy?"

The question caught him completely off guard. "Well, er... Although, I love England very much, I needed a change."

"So you're running from someone. Lovers, no. Friends, no. Authorities, no. Family - You're avoiding family, aren't you," he stated, his eyes never leaving Arthur's face.

He gaped at him, quickly hiding his shock. "How did you know?"

"A trick I learned," the young man said in a bored tone. "It comes in handy from time to time."

In his head, he rationalized that the boy had watched his reactions and had made guesses to find out what he meant. But even still, he had never considered himself an easy man to read. "Do you do that to everyone you meet?"

"Yes."

A frown pulled down the corners of his mouth. "Everyone must love when you do that," he said sarcastically.

"Considering, I never talk to anyone without the intent to either steal from them or cheat them, then I suppose yes."

The frown deepened. "Which one am I?" Something in him seemed to hold its breath for the answer.

Lovino stared at the blonde man across from him, honestly surprised he asked, and even more surprised that he didn't know the answer. "None of your business, bastard. I don't plan on seeing you again after this, anyway."

"Why not?" Arthur said, seeming disappointed by this.

He gave him a confused look, and said, "Because I'm a fucking thief and I don't have time to entertain a bored rich man with nothing fucking better to do than talk to me. And do I have to mention again, I am a fucking _thief_."

"Well, I'm not always bored, I do have I job," Arthur grumbled, feeling stupid.

_So the rich fuck has a job, even though everything around me says he doesn't really need one._ He had made up his mind; he hated Arthur. "Oh? And what the hell is that?"

"I'm a doctor."

Lovino's jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide as he stared unblinkingly at Arthur. _Holy fucking shit... If I could get this guy to like me, maybe he would treat Feliciano for free. I hate him, but... You got to be fucking kidding me. The things I do for that idiot._

"What? Why is that so shocking?" Arthur frowned at him.

"Nothing... It's just," he trailed off, letting his eyes drop to his lap and slipping into his pathetic poor boy act.

"Just what?" Arthur watched his sudden change in behavior closely.

"I don't understand," he said softly, his voice thick with faked emotion. "I tried to steal from you, yet you don't seem to mind."

"Oh, well... It doesn't really matter to me," Arthur said awkwardly, not catching on.

"Why are you being so kind?" His voice rose and tears came to his eyes as he stared pleadingly at Arthur. "I don't deserve this kindness!"

Arthur deadpanned. "Whatever act you're trying to pull, stop it. It's not working and it doesn't suit you."

Lovino blinked at him. "What?"

"This sickening act of humility. I can tell you don't mean an ounce of what you're saying, and I would appreciate some honesty from you," he said.

He was a bit shocked, not many people saw through his act so quickly. _So he's not helping me just because he's a good person. Then why? Actually, I really don't care._ "Fine. You're going to help someone."

"What? Who?" Arthur was thoroughly confused by the sudden demands and behavior change.

"I have a brother and he's been sick for a while now. You're going to make him better," he said firmly. "I don't have much money, but I'll work for you to pay off the debt his treatment will cost. I will be a live-in worker, since it seems you have plenty of rooms and no servants."

Arthur stared at him, slowly processing the load of information. "What?"

He talked very slowly, as if he was explaining something to a child, "You are going to cure my brother. In return, I will work for you until the debt is payed."

The blonde man, bewildered by that not only had Lovino said he'd be coming to work for him, but apparently he had a new patient being thrust into his care. And, strangely, he felt almost excited by the thought. "Alright. What kind of jobs can you do?"

Lovino blinked at him, clearly not expecting him to comply so easily. " I can cook, garden, and fix small things, but do not ask me to clean."

"Why not?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Just don't." He glared threateningly at the blonde man, daring him to ask again.

He sighed. "Fine, but I need to know your name."

The man cursed violently under his breath before finally saying, "My name is Lovino."

Arthur had expected a more common name, but he liked this one. It was unique. "Lovino," he said, savoring the taste of it on his tongue.

"What?" He growled.

"Nothing. Just saying your name."

"Weirdo. Don't say it too much, or at all if possible." Lovino looked away, his eyes expressing too much of the pain that name caused him.

Arthur was about to ask why, but the pained look on Lovino's face stopped him; he'd leave it alone for now. "So, your brother is ill. Do you know what with?"

"I don't know... It doesn't matter, you can figure it out when I bring him." Lovino stood, not bothering to push the chair in.

He nodded, also rising from his seat. "Very well. While you get him, I'll prepare a room."

The dark-haired man nodded. "I'll be taking you horse again."

"Her name is Mint."

"Whatever." A one fingered wave dismissed him as Lovino left through the kitchen door.

_Well, that was rude of him._ Arthur shook his head when the door slammed shut. He chose the bedroom closest to his own to set up the room for Lovino's brother. Figuring Lovino would like to be close to his brother, he chose the room next to that for him. Both rooms were small and cozy, with nice curtains and bright white walls, and in their closets a door connected both rooms.

Once he put fresh sheets on the beds, dusted the cobwebs from the corners of the rooms, and wiped down every inch of the rooms until they were clean of any dirt (He even went so far as to put flowers from his garden in the empty vases by the windows), he seated himself with a wonderful cup of tea and the book he had tried to read from before.

...oOo...

Feliciano stared at him, his amber eyes wide and shocked. "We're... What?"

He continued to shove their meager belongings into two bags. One for the food he refused to leave behind and another for their few spare clothes and the pretty rocks and other objects that caught Feliciano's eye. "We are moving. Hopefully, we'll never return here, but I won't be surprised if I have to at some point. Is there anything I'm missing? I really don't want to come back here until I have to, and I expect I will end up here again."

In his confusion, he didn't notice how Lovino never mentioned _him_ ever coming back here. Just the thought of moving blew his mind, they had lived there five years. Yes, it was very cold in the winters and he was sure that Lovino hated it here, but how could he leave so easily after _five years._ "But... Why?"

"I found somewhere better for you to live and it'll be warmer and you'll safer there."

This time, it didn't escape his notice when Lovino didn't use the term 'us' or 'we'. "Where is this place?"

"You'll see." Lovino shoved his feet into old shoes that he hadn't worn in forever.

"Is it a nice place?" He asked innocently.

"You could call it that."

He pouted, letting his brother pick him up and take him outside to the waiting horse. "Where is this place we're going? Who is the nice person willing to take us in? Tell me something! Please!"

His older brother looked down at him angrily (Or at least to Feliciano he looked angry), causing him to flinch under the intense glare. "It's a big house. The man letting us stay there is a doctor named..." Lovino hesitated, as if he was having trouble remembering the doctor's name - which he probably was - until he finally said, "Arthur. His name is Arthur Kirkland."

Feliciano stared up at his brother, noticing the light flush that dusted his tanned cheeks. If he knew more, and if his head didn't hurt so much, he might tease his brother for having taken a liking to this man named Arthur; but he didn't know how his brother had even met this man, or their relationship, and his head really did hurt too much for thinking. "Veh, he must be a nice man for helping us.

"I wouldn't say that just yet," he said quietly, lifting Feliciano on to the mare's back. He carefully tied the two old bags to the saddle, frowning to himself._ I don't know what to think about that bastard. Nothing he's done has warrant distrust - hell, he's probably the most generous bastard I've met - but I won't fucking trust him either. What the hell is wrong with me?_ Green eyes flashed across his vision, boring into his. If he really did hate the guy, why did he feel almost happy to be going to live with him?

"Lovino!" A foot gently kicked him in the shoulder.

He jumped, and yelled, "What?"

"You zoned out. What were you thinking about?" Feliciano stared down at him.

"I was just wondering if this is a good idea," he said stiffly, not exactly lying.

His little brother smiled sweetly at him. "Of course it is. I don't think he would let us live with him if he was planning to do us harm. I told you things were going to get better for us."

Lovino couldn't help but smile at his brother's optimism and roll his eyes. "Shut up. You and your damn happiness," he said as he climbed in the saddle behind Feliciano.

"But happiness makes the world go 'round," Felici whined, leaning back against his brother's chest.

"Shut up and be quiet." He frowned, grabbing the reigns from around him and nudged the horse into a walk.

But for most of the ride to Arthur's estates, Feliciano continued to chat about anything and everything, just happy to be outside. At first, Lovino indulged his little brother's chatter, joining him in conversations about how pretty the sun looked shinning through the trees or the way clouds floated in the sky above them, but when Feliciano began to reminisce about the past and their grandfather, his talking turned from chatting to short replies, then to one word sentences, until all he made was the occasional "Mhm."

Feliciano knew his brother didn't like to remember the past, but he couldn't help it, things were so much more nice and easier back then. Grandpa Roma took care of them and they never had to worry about food or shelter. He had all the time he could want to paint and draw, like Grandpa had wanted him to, and he could play with all his friends whenever he wanted. He missed it.

Grandpa Roma had very different visions for each of his grandsons. For Feliciano, he made sure he had all the best art teachers and musicians to teach him the beauty in the world around him and inside him. And he taught Feliciano the best way to bring happiness to others and to smile for everyone, no matter the person. But for Lovino...he gave him a much darker education. He taught Lovino to fight, cheat, lie, and steal; all the things he hoped his other grandson would never have to learn. He toughened Lovino against the world and all its dark purposes, never giving him a glimpse of light and love. Augustus Vargas was no fool, despite his happy smile that his youngest grandson inherited, he knew his end would be bloody, but he didn't want his ending to also be the same for his grandsons. For one child, he gave the gift of happiness; but for the other, the burden of ruin.

Upon his death, he left two things behind. Happiness and Ruin.

* * *

**For those of you that don't know, Feliciano's name means Happiness and Lovino's (If you replace the L with an R) means Intolerable Cruelty or Ruin. I don't think much of the fandom has realized what Lovino's name means if you just replace one letter, but it kinda makes sense, don't you think? Thank you for reading so far.**

**-_Windy_**


	5. Chapter 5

When Lovino and his brother arrived, Arthur was on his third pot of tea, having given up on reading after again failing to concentrate properly. Arthur simply stared into space and let his thoughts wander to Lovino, but the longer he thought about the dark-haired Italian, the more confused he became than when he began. _I do not understand this infatuation with that surly Italian. He's rude, ill-mannered, flow-mouthed, interesting, quite handsome too - Stop that Arthur. You're getting ahead of yourself again._ He again reasoned that he was only interested because the young man was such a challenge.

"You're talking to yourself again."

Arthur nearly fell out of his seat, thankfully he hadn't been holding his tea-cup at that moment, or it surely would have ended up on the floor. "Bloody hell! Why must you sneak up on me like that?"

"Why must you make it so easy to sneak up on you like that?" Lovino asked, nonchalantly, but he obviously was moking him.

"Shut up," he grumbled, glaring at the Italian. "Where's you're brother?" Just as he asked, a head peeked out from over Lovino's shoulder.

"Hello, sir," the boy said shyly.

From what Arthur could see of the boy, he was a couple years younger than Lovino, both his hair and eyes were lighter than his brother's. In fact, everything about him seemed lighter that his brother. And the air he carried around him differed from Lovino's, it was gentler and sweet. "Hello there."

Suddenly, the entire boy's face lit up with a wide smile and he waved at him. "Ciao! I'm Feliciano and it's very nice to meet you!"

_'Wow. He's nothing like Lovino,'_ he thought, surprised by the pleasant greeting. "It's nice to meet you too. I'm Arthur Kirkland, if you don't already know."

"Veh, Lovino's told me about you. Thank you so much for helping us!"

Arthur flushed lightly. "You're welcome. Would you like me to show you your rooms?"

"Damn, you sound more like a fucking servant than the owner of this place when you say that."

"Yes, please!"

The contrast between the two brothers amazed him. How could one brother be so kind and adorable, while the other was cynical and...would probably punch you if you ever mentioned his name and the word adorable in the same sentence? "Yes, well follow me."

As Lovino stepped closer, Arthur noticed Feliciano was riding on his back. "If you say a fucking word, I will murder you in your sleep," Lovino growled.

"Fratello! Don't be so mean," Feliciano cried.

He could barely contain the laughter that bubbled up in his chest. _'These two compliment each other well,'_ he thought. "I didn't say anything," he said, leading them down the hall, pointing to the different bedrooms and where the washroom was located.

"Do you mean I'm not allowed to sleep with my fratellone?" From the way Feliciano looked at him, you'd think Arthur was taking his brother away from him completely.

"No, no," he said quickly. "You can sleep where ever you like!"

Feliciano's smile returned with full force. "Veh, thank you Arthur."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Lovino staring at him with a mixture of amusement and disgust. "And so, it begins," was all he said.

"What?"

"You'll figure it out, bastard." Lovino marched into the bedroom that was to be Feliciano's and dumped his brother on the bed.

Feliciano let out a whine, "Fratello!"

"Don't you 'fratello' me, I'm going to get us some proper food, so shut your mouth," he growled and stomped out.

"Fratellone is so kind," Feliciano said, turning to Arthur who had followed them into the room.

"Er, that didn't come across to me as kind," he said slowly.

The boy waved his hand, smiling brightly at him. "Once you get to know him, you'll understand. Lovi doesn't mean anything he says...unless he actually does mean it."

"Well, it's really hard to tell the difference then," he said in a somewhat amused tone.

"Perhaps, just a bit," Feliciano said cheerfully, running his hands over the sheets and blankets under him, a strange look of nostalgia on his face.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked softly when the silence became too unbearable for him.

"I'm fine. It's just been so long since I've had a real bed, and with such thick blankets too," the little Italian said, almost too quiet for him to hear.

Arthur didn't know how to answer that, obviously this boy didn't get the luxury of a bed often, but he was willing to change that. "Oh," he finally said.

"Lovino and I use to share a bed even larger than this one when we were younger." Feliciano suppressed a giggle, his hands smoothing the blanket out. "We were both so scared of the dark back then. Although Lovi was much better at hiding it than me, but that didn't stop him from hugging me when a branch scratched at the window and scared us both. Once, we got so terrified that we had to spend the night in Nonno's bed." He quickly grew very quiet and solemn, it didn't suit the usually cheerful boy.

He placed a comforting hand on Feliciano's shoulder, before saying, "Would you like to talk?"

Feliciano opened his mouth to speak, but a much sharper, angry voice cut him off. "Why the hell are you touching him?"

"I was checking his temperature," he said quickly, thinking fast and putting his hand on Feliciano's forehead, surprised to find it warm with a mild fever.

"Oh... And?"

"He has a fever, but it's not too high. I was expecting him to be more severe than this, to tell you the truth," he confessed, glancing at Lovino who was standing in the doorway holding a wooden spoon.

"He's been sick for nearly a whole damn year. Don't you tell me that's not fucking severe," Lovino growled, and stepped further into the room.

From the way the dark-haired man clutched that spoon, he figured he wasn't afraid to hit him with it if Lovino got too annoyed. "That is worrisome," Arthur said cautiously, keeping an eye on that spoon. "But I think with proper medicine and food, he'll be better before you know it." He tried a smile, but let it drop when Lovino's scowl only deepened.

"Alright, bastard. I made pasta," he said, turning to his brother.

Feliciano let out an excited gasp. "Really? Pasta!"

"I had pasta?" Arthur mumbled under his breath, remembering his (failed) attempts at Italian food.

Lovino shoved the spoon into Arthur's hand, and glared at him. "Taste, bastard."

He hesitantly licked some of the red sauce from the spoon. Flavor exploded on his tongue, each one melding together and at the same time, different and bold. "Wow... That's delicious!"

"Damn right, bastard. No more of your shit food," he said, grinning at Arthur.

"It's not shit food," he grumbled.

"Don't argue with me, dammit." Lovino picked up his brother, ignoring the goofy smile on Feliciano's face as he cuddled against him.

"Um, is there something wrong with his legs that I should know about?" Arthur asked, glancing at Feliciano's legs wrapped around Lovino's waist.

"Not that I know of." Lovino growled when Feliciano kissed his cheek, "Stop that."

"Well, if his legs are fine, why isn't he walking on his own feet?"

"Because fratellone loves me!" Feliciano declared before Lovino could say anything, much to his brother's embarrassment.

"That still doesn't—"

"He's fucking lazy, that's why," Lovino grumbled.

"And Lovi's nice enough to carry me around!"

"And he somehow convinced me to be his fucking horse."

"I wouldn't trade my brother for the world."

"I ought to just stop picking him up. It's spoiling him."

Arthur watched each brother ignore the other and say what they want. One practically singing his love, while the other found reasons to insult him, somehow it came across as caring, though. _'What a strange combination. They're so different,' _he couldn't help but think as he looked from brother to brother.

"So, dinner?" He finally interrupted them.

"Oh, yes! I'm so hungry!" Feliciano squeezed Lovino's shoulder and wiggled his legs. "Onward, to the pasta!"

"I'm not your fucking horse, dammit," Lovino growled, and walked to the kitchen.

He followed the two brothers, laughing quietly as Lovino fussed over Feliciano. While the two brothers set up dinner, Lovino had to find another chair for Arthur to sit in, he decided to mix up the medicine Feliciano needed to take. _I wonder what their story is... Shouldn't their parents be around? I don't want to pry too much, but...I'm curious. Feliciano seemed more than willing to talk about the past, but I doubt Lovino would be as willing. I was barely able to get a name out of him! I wonder why he's so damn skittish?_

"Whatcha got there, bastard?" Lovino's voice startled him out of his thoughts.

"Dammit! Stop sneaking up on me like that!" He nearly dropped the glass of milky liquid in his hands. "And this is medicine."

Lovino gave a short puff of laughter. "You need to pay attention to what's around you, bastard. Then maybe I wouldn't startled you as much, stupid."

Arthur scowled and set the glass in front of Feliciano. "Shut up, git. Please, drink this. It doesn't taste too bad."

Feliciano sniffed the strange liquid before gulping it down as fast as he could, his face up into a look of disgust. "Ew... Am I going to have to drink this again?"

"Just before dinner."

All whines of complaint were cut off by Lovino shoving a bowl of pasta in his face. "Quit your whining and eat."

The younger brother immediately took the plate and began stuffing his face, the taste of medicine forgotten on his tongue. "Grazie! This is so good, fratello."

He sat down as Lovino scooped some pasta out into his bowl. "Thank you, Lovino."

"Fuck off," he grumbled, but a faint blush managed to find its way on to his cheeks.

"Be nice, Lovi," Feliciano scolded playfully.

"You shut up," he growled, taking the seat closest to the door again.

Silence fell over them as they all ate, each savoring every bite in their mouths. Arthur decided this was the best food he had ever eaten, he liked it better than all the French cooking Francis loved to make him eat (Not that he would ever admit to liking it). He glanced over to Feliciano and could see he was obviously enjoying the food, but when he looked at Lovino, all he saw was his usual scowl. Arthur continued to stare at him, not realizing he was staring until Lovino looked up and stared back. Those hazel eyes held his gaze, challenging him to do something again. All he could do was stare back, having no idea what the challenge was.

"Um," Feliciano started timidly, interrupting their intense staring.

"What is it, Felici?"

"I'm done eating," he said softly.

"Alright." Lovino gathered their empty plates and dumped them into the sink and began washing them.

Feliciano stood on shaky legs. "Goodnight Arthur," he said, and made his way out of the kitchen, and to his room, leaving Arthur and Lovino alone together.

After a few moment of silence, except for the clink of plates, Arthur finally asked, "Would you tell me about your past if I asked?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's none of your business and I do not feel like satisfying your curiosity."

"How did you know...?"

Lovino turned to him, wiping his hands off on a nearby rag. "You've been dying from curiosity since I met you, that's how. Make things easier for yourself, and leave the past alone, leave me alone, and leave my brother alone. We are not new toys to entertain you, and don't think for a second, if given the choice, I wouldn't take my brother and leave."

Arthur stared at him in shock. "I... Do you really think I'm so shallow that I only think of you as toys?"

"No, but it's easier to think you are," Lovino answered, his voice void of all emotion. "Good night."

"Good night," he said softly, watching Lovino leave the room. He sat there, staring at the wall until the sun finally slipped below the horizon and threw the house into darkness. Feeling around blindly, he found his way out into the hall and walked slowly to his bedroom.

A soft voice sang out from behind the door that led to the room the brothers were in, causing him to stop and listen. The voice rose and fell with each different note, forming words to a language he didn't understand. It soothed him and left a strange aching in his chest. When the voice finally died away, he almost opened the door and asked whoever the singer was to continue. But he stopped himself and retreated into his room, that smooth melody echoing in his head.

* * *

**This chapter is kinda short, but hopefully the next one will be longer. Now that I have finally have Lovi and Felici living with Arthur, things will start happening (hopefully). I will tell you now, in the upcoming chapters, Francis and Ludwig will be introduced, and I may or may not add Antonio to the mix, but that's all I'm willing to say on the future of this story. Thank you for reading and sending all your lovely reviews.**

**-_Windy_**


	6. Chapter 6

When Lovino woke in the morning, the sun was already high in the sky. At first, he wondered why it was so bright around him, after deciding it was the sun shinning through the window. _Wait, window? The barn doesn't have any windows! Where the hell am I? _He sat up quickly, ignoring the displeased whine beside him, and looked around at the white walls. Slowly, all the events of yesterday came back to him and calmed the panic that had come rushing to meet him. Another whine came from the slightly roused body beside him and he reached over and stroked his brother's hair, just so he would go back to sleep. And as he hoped, Feliciano settled back down, allowing Lovino to carefully slip out of bed and out the door.

"So, you're finally awake?" A familiar voice asked from behind him.

He slowly turned to face the blonde man, refusing to show that he startled him. "No, I'm still fucking asleep, bastard," he growled sarcastically.

Arthur sighed at Lovino's hostility, much to his annoyance.

"What do you want? Or were you just trying to sneak up on me?" He glared at Arthur suspiciously. "Because you're going to have to do better than that."

The Brit scowled at him. "Can't you be even slightly civilized towards me?"

"Hell no."

"Why?"

_'Because I don't need any attachments,' _he thought. Never having real friends before, Lovino didn't know how to act towards people without an ulterior motive. Yes, he can fake any emotion, but how does he make that real? Hell if he knows. "Because."_  
_

"That's not an answer." Arthur frowned at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Then, I guess you're not getting an answer."

Arthur let out a heavy sigh. "Anyway, I thought now would be a good time to show you around my property."

"Alright, bastard," he said with mild curiosity.

With a nod, Arthur showed him around the giant house. He had known the house was large, but once he'd been shown the entire mansion, it convinced him of the enormity. It amazed him that this was only home to one man. Just the many bedrooms alone were enough to house multiple families comfortably.

The parlor room held many comfy chairs and couches (All of which, Lovino tried out when he thought Arthur wasn't looking), that all matched together. Not a single thing seemed out of place, from the drapes hanging on the many windows to the assortment of lamps and rugs. It all was so perfect. Impersonal. Lonely.

"Lovino?" Someone's hand touched his lightly.

He jerked away from the contact. "Don't fucking touch me!"

Arthur looked startled by his outburst. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"No... It was stupid of me to freak out like that," Lovino surprised himself by saying. "Just...don't do that without warning."

"I said your name three times..."

"I was thinking, bastard," he growled, feeling embarrassed and guilty.

The Brit gave him a curious stare. "What were you thinking about?"

"How a man can live in such a big place all alone. No wonder you're so damn crazy, there's no way living like this can be good for anyone."

His eyebrows scrunched together as he pouted, it almost seemed endearing to Lovino. "I told you before, I'm not crazy, and living alone is perfectly healthy. Many people do it."

"Yeah, and they're all old and bat-shit crazy," he said, enjoying the exasperated look on Arthur's face. "Maybe we'll be the ones saving you, instead of you saving us_—_ Let's move it, show me the next room." A light shade of pink covered his cheeks, unable to believe he just said that.

"Alright. No need to be so demanding," Arthur said, ignoring his own blush, led him to the dinning room.

The long table, obviously meant to hold many guests, stood bare and empty. A glass cabinet held all the fragile china plates and silver serving trays, along with many crystal wine glasses. At the sight of such rare treasures (Although, he wouldn't have considered them rare before his Grandfather died), Lovino tried to calculate how much they cost. They were most likely more than he could even dream of being able to afford again (if ever).

He went to the tall cabinet and took out one of the small plates, running his hands over the smooth surface and brushed dust off the plate, and old memories.

_"Be careful! Those are fragile, idiot!"_

_"Don't yell at me!" His baby brother, at the stubborn age of five, balanced on a chair and reached for the beautiful plates that stayed just out of his reach._

_From behind him, Lovino watched carefully. "Just get down and let me do it."_

_"No! I'm a big boy like you, I can set the table and be useful!" Feliciano whined, gently taking down the plates._

_"Not so many, you're going to fall— Feliciano!" He rushed forwards to catch his brother, but the weight of another body sent them both falling to the ground while plates shattered all around them._

_"Feliciano! Are you alright?" Their grandfather had come running in at the sound of the crash, and scooped up the crying child._

_"I-I'm sorry!" The younger boy wailed, hugging tightly on to his grandfather._

_"It's alright," the older man cooed and took him away._

_Lovino laid on the floor, forgotten, his head spinning from coming in contact with the hard ground and stars fading from his vision. The impact had jarred his small body, pain spread across his entire backside. He breathed through his nose, staring at the ceiling. He was not going to cry. Big boys don't cry._

_"Get up," his grandfather ordered, having come back from calming Feliciano down._

_He stumbled to a standing position, dragging a sleeve across his eyes. "I'm sorry. I tried to catch him."_

_"You should know better than to let him do such things! He could have been hurt!" Grandpa Roma's voice rose, concern filled his honey-colored eyes, the same eyes as Feliciano._

_"I told him to get down and let me do it, but he wouldn't listen! It's not my fault he fell!"_

_"It is your fault! You're the oldest and you have to take care of your brother, he is your responsibility," his grandfather said sternly. "Now pick up this mess."_

_"It's not my fault!" It was always like this. He didn't matter when it came to his brother._

_"Now, Lovino."_

_He flinched at the tone of his voice and bowed his head, his fists clenched at his sides. "I hate you," he said quietly._

_"What did you say?"_

_"I hate you! I hate Feliciano! I hate everyone!" He screamed at the wide-eyed man in front of him, and ran out the back door._

_After that, everything changed for the Vargas family. His grandfather stopped trying to put up with Lovino, and every moment alone together was tense and uncomfortable. Feliciano didn't know what had happened, he just wanted things back to the way they were before, and he told them that many times, almost always in tears. This usually ended in Lovino telling him to shut up, only to be scolded by Grandpa Roma to be nice to his brother who became silent and glared at his grandfather. In the end, Feliciano stopped trying to fix it, and smiled as much as he could, because he loved his brother and his grandfather and just wanted them to be happy together again._

"Lovino!" Arthur yelled as he literally shook the Italian from his memories.

He stared blankly at the blonde, still trying to reconnect with the present. "What...?"

"Are you alright?" Arthur couldn't hide the concern that welled up in him, tightening his grip on the other's shoulders. The strained, bitter expression on Lovino's face had nearly sent him into a panic.

"I'm fine, dammit. You worry too much," he said, slowly putting away the small dish.

"You looked like you've seen a ghost..."

"In a way, I did," he mumbled under his breath and marched out of the room. He rarely let himself reminisce the past, especially about things he rather forget, yet the ache of the flashback still lingered in his heart, poking at him to be remembered. "Next room!"

Arthur followed the stormy Italian, utterly confused by the other male's behavior. He knew Lovino had remembered something; the far-away looked had told him that much, but how could one of his best china plates do that? Arthur was beginning to suspect Lovino hadn't always been penniless and homeless. "The last room I want to show you is the Library. Please, follow me."

"Would you stop with the polite shit?" Lovino growled at him, falling into step beside him.

"Has it ever occurred to you, this is just the way I am?"

"That's bullshit."

"And how do you know?" Arthur turned to face Lovino, their eyes locked in a glaring match. Yes, he had had his rebellious phase, but he had given all that up and hadn't even gotten in a fight in years. That might be because he never goes out drinking at bars, but still!

"Your ears are pierced and you have gold earrings in them," Lovino pointed out with a smirk.

Arthur's hand went up to touch the mark of his younger years (Even though, those 'younger years' had only been a few years ago), wondering how he had noticed them; they were usually covered by his mope of messy hair. He never had the heart to let the holes heal shut for sentimental reasons. "Those are from a long time ago."

"Stop acting like you're already old fucking retired man! I can't even guess how fucking old you are! You look in your damn twenties, but you act like you're sixty!"

"I'm just twenty, and I am retired, kinda," Arthur muttered, looking away from the angered Italian.

Lovino stared at him. _I hate him so much. He's only one year older than me and far better off. Damn bastard._

"What's that look for...?"

"How the hell are you fucking retired? You're only twenty! How do you already own such a huge home?" Lovino exploded at him, throwing his hands up.

"I'm a family doctor and none of the families I work for are sick at the moment. As for this house, I inherited it from my mother's side of the family," Arthur answered calmly, although the ferocity of Lovino's anger was a bit startling.

"I should have guessed," he mumbled. "Why aren't you married? I'm sure plenty of _donne_ would go for a rich bastard like you."

Blush spread quickly across the Brit's cheeks as he tried to find his voice to answer him. "U-Uh... I-I just haven't found the right...person."

He frowned at the blonde man who fidgeted nervously under his stare. "Have you even looked for a nice girl?"

"Er... Let's finish the tour of the house." Arthur quickly turned and walked away.

He followed as Arthur pointed out different doors (That all looked the same to him), telling him which were bedrooms, closets, or washrooms (He decided not to show him the upstairs, which mostly composed of bedrooms). Finally, they came to a door that differed from the others. It was large and beautifully carved with animals and outlandish creatures.

"This is my library."

Lovino stopped Arthur from opening the door, and ran his hands over the elaborate woodwork. The carvings seemed so real, like they would dance out of the wood into the world around him. Even simple animals held as much magic as the strange creatures around them. "What are these?" He asked in awe.

"That one's a fairy and this one's a troll," Arthur said, staring at the mystified boy.

"I've only seen such things once before." Lovino traced the curve of a pretty fairy's wing. A pale hand took his and guided it to another mythical being.

"This is an elf," Arthur said, suddenly much closer to him than before.

He didn't seem to notice as he stared at the beautiful woman's carved face. "Bella... Fuck!" Lovino jerked away when he finally realized the English bastard was touching him. His cheeks burned as blood rushed to his cheeks. He couldn't believe Arthur had _touched_ him _again_.

The Brit cleared his throat and took a step away from him, his cheeks also aflame with blush. He pushed the door open, and said stiffly, "The library."

Lovino didn't seem to know whether to punch Arthur for getting too close to him or stare at the millions of books that lined the walls. He finally settled for staring at the books, aching to run his fingers over all the bindings and settle into a chair with one.

Every wall was covered in huge bookshelves that stretched from ceiling to floor, and each shelf filled with books of all sizes and colors. In the middle of the East wall, the bookshelves stopped and gave way to long windows that looked out to a grand garden. Couches were dispersed nicely throughout the room, mostly in front of the sizeable fireplace. And in the corner, a spiral staircase led up to the second level of shelves.

"Amazing, right? My mother made Father build this place just for her and her books," Arthur said softly. "That's her garden too. Although, now it's all mine."

Lovino stepped forward and pressed his hand against the cool glass, looking out over the various flowers. He figured they'd all be gone when the first frost came with a silent, quick death for them. "She must have been a wonderful woman."

"She was. Do you remember your mother?" He asked cautiously, not wanting to scare off the young man who didn't seem to have an once of trust in him.

"No. She died when Feliciano was born. But my grandfather always said she was the most beautiful woman in all of Italy," he said, deciding it was alright to tell him this small piece of information. "I saw a painting of her once. She was as pretty as Grandfather always described her."

Arthur stared at Lovino's turned back, wondering if it was safe to ask about more. "What about your father?"

"A tall German from up North. He ended up dying in war before I could walk." Lovino still didn't seem bothered by the questioning.

"And your grandfather?"

The Italian's whole body tensed, and all he said was, "Dead."

He could see he wasn't going to get anymore about his family out of him with his guard up again. "Why did you try to steal my book?"

"Feliciano wanted to read," Lovino said, secretly relieved for the change of subject.

"Really?" He was happily surprised. "If he wants, he's welcome to borrow as many as he likes."

"Reading isn't what he really wants," Lovino said softly, taking down a book and flipping through it.

"Oh?" Arthur was a bit disappointed by that, he wanted someone to talk about books with.

"No, he loves painting and sketching. He hasn't been able to do it much since...since a long time ago," he answered slowly.

"I could go out and buy him some paper and coal."

Lovino's eyes snapped to his. "No. I don't want to be more in debited to you than I have to. And I don't want your fucking charity either."

"Think of it as a welcome gift to Feliciano. I'm sure he wouldn't turn it down," he said calmly, thinking that maybe if he made the younger brother happy, it would relax the other.

The Italian hesitated, caught between his brother's happiness and his own pride. After a long pause, he finally said, "Do whatever the hell you want."

Arthur couldn't help the smile that forced its way on to his lips. "Alright. No reason to be rude."

"Shut the fuck up." Lovino turned his attention back to the book still in his hands.

"Do you like to read?"

"No," Lovino said sharply, shoving the book back into its place and walking out of the library.

He sighed softly, and followed the hot-head Italian back through the house to their bedrooms. _Stubborn Italian._

* * *

**Translation:**

**Donne (Italian)= women**

**Fratello (Italian)= brother**

**Fratellone (Italian)= big brother**

**Fratellino (Italian)= little brother**

**When I first wrote the flashback, Rome was much, much more cruel to Lovino. But I don't really like thinking of him like that, so I made him a bit neglectful of Lovino instead. I hope that choice of was good one, I think it was. And if you didn't figure it out, Arthur's basically a rich, social recluse, that cut himself off from the rest of aristocracy society to live in a empty house with no one, but his books. But there's a reason that he's not in England doing this, and that will come up soon. Thank you for reading so far.**

**-_Windy_**


	7. Chapter 7

"Feliciano. Wake up." Lovino shook his younger brother's shoulder.

The little Italian gave a sleepy whine, "Too asleep."

"You can't sleep forever, idiot." He shook Feliciano more persistently. "You need to get up."

"Fine. I'm up," Feliciano grumbled as he sat up and yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"How are you feeling?"

His brother smiled brightly. "Much, much better!"

"I suppose I should make you breakfast, shouldn't I?"

The younger boy nodded quickly and smiled. "Please!" Feliciano lifted his arms to his brother and was quickly awarded by being picked up.

"You need to start walking on your own," Lovino grumbled as he carried him to the kitchen.

"Don't you remember your promise, fratello," Feliciano sang, nuzzling his nose against Lovino's cheek.

He let out an exasperated sigh and dumped him into a chair. "I know, I know."

"What promise?"

Both brothers looked startled by Arthur's voice, having completely forgotten about him. They were so used to living with just each other, that seeing the presence of another person was strange and unfamiliar to them. It had just been them alone for too long.

"Lovino promised to still carry me even when I'm better," Feliciano said cheerfully.

"A promise I already regret making," Lovino mumbled under his brother. He turned away from them and searched through Arthur's pantry.

"Aw, don't be like that," his little brother said with a pouted.

As Arthur watched Lovino start a small fire in the old cookstove he only used to make tea, his gaze caught on the strange, wild curl that stuck out from the rest of his hair. He watched it bob and bounce with every one of his movements. And when he glanced at Feliciano, he noticed that he also had a strange curl, only its placement differed from his brother's curl. _So strange. It must run in the family._ Arthur's stomach rumbled silently when sweet smells floated in the air from the pot Lovino stirred with a wooden spoon._ Damn, that cooking smells too good._

"How do you know how to cook so well?"

"Veh, fratellone and I use to work at an inn, he would helped the cook while I cleaned rooms," Feliciano answered for his brother. "That was one of our very first jobs."

"It was one of the better ones too," Lovino commented quietly.

"What happened?"

"The building burnt down. It was quite the tragedy," Lovino said without much feeling.

"It was! The owners almost died in the fire, and even though they lived, they still lost everything!" The younger brother looked close to tears over the misfortune.

"I bet they're fine now. That big lion-man could handle anything." Lovino patted Feliciano's head to sooth him. "They probably have that place re-built and running just fine by now."

"But I really hope Tino and Berwald are oaky," the younger sighed, then suddenly smiled again. "You're right! We should go see them."

"Where do they live?" Arthur asked, finally finding a place to speak.

"Two towns over. But it's been years since we saw them, no point in going now," Lovino sad as he set a bowl of hot porridge in front of his brother, who started eating immediately.

Arthur felt his stomach rumbled again, and he remembered that he had skipped breakfast when he woke up again. He tried to hide the noise by clearing his throat and asking, "Why didn't you stay over there?"

Sadly, the sound didn't go unnoticed by Lovino. "If you're hungry, then tell me, dammit," he said gruffly. "And it wouldn't have been possible to stay. There was no other places to work or live, so we came back here."

"Back?"

"Si, this is our hometown," Feliciano answered.

He opened his mouth to ask another question, but a bowl of delicious smelling, mouth-watering porridge was shoved in his face and did a wonderful job of shutting him up. But before he took a bite, he stared at Lovino and asked, "Aren't you going to eat, Lovino?"

"Oh, yeah." Lovino looked surprised, before turning and preparing himself a bowl, then taking his seat.

"This is good, fratellone," Feliciano commented, pausing from his meal to smile happily at his brother.

"Hn." Lovino began eating silently.

Arthur watched both brothers eat their food, like it would run away from them, fast and hungrily. He knew they probably hadn't had a steady supply of food since Feliciano fell ill, leaving Lovino to carry the burden of feeding two people. "You don't have to eat so fast. There will always be food here."

"Ah, you're right. Force of habit," Feliciano said with a sheepish smile, glancing back at his now empty bowl.

Wordlessly, Lovino gathered his bowl and filled it again, before setting it back in front of Feliciano.

"Veh, grazie!"

He watched this strange transaction. Feliciano hadn't said he was still hungry, but Lovino just seemed to know. Is this how true brothers act? He wouldn't know; all his brothers had hated his guts since he was born.

Lovino's voice broke through his thoughts before he could think too much of his brothers. "Are you going to eat, bastard?"

"Oh, sorry, I got lost in my thoughts." He quickly began eating the lightly sweetened meal.

"No shit."

"Don't be rude, fratellone."

"Cheh, whatever." Lovino stalked out of the kitchen, grumbling insults all the way.

As soon as Lovino left the room, Feliciano broke down into a harsh fit of coughing. When he finished, he sighed at his brother's behavior, and said in a hoarse voice, "Don't mind him. I swear, he's nice on the inside."

Arthur quickly got up and took down a small container and warmed the kettle on the stove. "I don't doubt it. From the way he treats you with so much love, I can see he's not all bad," he said, smiling kindly at the younger boy and set a cup of tea in front of him.

"I'm glad you say that. Sometimes, I'm sure he hates me." Even though he looked so sorrowful, Feliciano never stopped smiling at Arthur. He brought the cup to his lips and sipped it slowly, letting out a relieved breath when the hot liquid soothed his ragged throat.

"I wouldn't say he hates you at all! He dotes on you like no brother I've ever seen. Of course, it's in his own rough and gruff way, but he adores you." He leaned over and patted Feliciano's arm softly, hoping the tea would calm the boy.

Feliciano looked up at him thoughtfully, and asked, "How do you know...?"

"Anyone who watched you two would have to be blind and deaf not to be able to see the brotherly love."

The bright Italian nearly blinded him with a smile. "Grazie! You're nice, and I like you."

"Er - Well, I like you too," he said awkwardly. "And I would like your brother also, if he would let me."

"Don't worry! He'll warm up to you eventually," Feliciano assured him. "He just doesn't trust strangers, or anyone, for that matter."

"Has he always been like that?"

"Yes and no. When we were younger, he didn't curse or call people names, but he never really trusted people," Feliciano answered softly. "Not me, and especially not Grandpa."

"Why? Did something happen to him?"

The Italian just shrugged. "I can't...remember exactly. But when I was younger, I wanted to help set the table. Lovino told me to let him do it, but I was too stubborn. He told me to be careful, but I got too many plates as once and lost my balance... He broke my fall, but all the plates broke. Grandpa came in and took me to my room, he wasn't mad at me. I followed him when he went back to Lovino. Grandpa was so mad at him for letting me fall. Lovino also got mad, and told Grandpa he hated him and me... He cried so much that day, and I did nothing for him." Tears slowly made their way down the boy's face. "I believe that was the day Lovino stopped loving himself and began to hate... I haven't seen him cry since that day so long ago."

_So that explains the Lovino's interest in the plate... _Arthur stared at the teary boy, feeling guilty for bringing up a painful subject. "I'm sorry for asking."

"Ah, it's alright," Feliciano said, smiling cheerlessly. "You're trying to figure us out, what happened to put us where we are now, yes?"

"Correct," he said slowly. Maybe Feliciano wasn't as much as an oblivious boy as he thought, or maybe he was just becoming too transparent.

"There's not much to tell you, really. Our parents both died when were young, and we lived with our grandfather. But when I was eleven, someone k-killed him..." The younger boy stopped and took a deep breath, his lips trembling to keep his voice steady. "Grandpa's closest friend told us that the person who...took our grandfather, might come for us and that we should run..."

"And that's how you got here," he stated unhappily. He couldn't help but pity the two brothers. Arthur set a comforting hand on Feliciano's shoulder, not letting it linger longer than necessary.

"Please, don't look at me like that, sir." Feliciano smiled at him so mournfully, it nearly broke his heart. "That happened more than six years ago, we've grown so much since then. Your pity should be saved for the less fortunate."

He cleared his throat, looking away from the boy's honest, sweet eyes. "Sorry."

"And I should warn you, if you ever look at fratello like that, he'll punch you." Feliciano smile cheerfully, but his voice held no mirth.

"I have no doubt about that. Speaking of Lovino, what does he like?" Arthur tried, but failed to keep his cheeks from turning red.

"Like?" Feliciano blinked at him, oblivious to Arthur's embarrassment. "Wouldn't it be better to ask him instead of me?"

"Do you honestly think he'd answer me?" Arthur sighed at the brunette's on-and-off airheadedness.

Feliciano laughed. "I guess you're right. But why are you asking such a strange question?"

"Well... I am getting you both welcome gifts and I have no bloody clue what I could get him," he mumbled, his cheeks burning.

"Oh! That's so nice of you!" Feliciano rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and said, "Hm... He likes food a lot, especially tomatoes and sweets, and pretty girls."

Arthur frowned. None of that was very helpful in his gift search. "Anything else? What does he like to do?"

"Um... When we were still living with Grandpa, Lovino really loved music. I had the music teacher, but he had the talent." A dreamy look came over Feliciano's face. "He can make anyone feel happy or sad just by playing."

Now they were getting somewhere. Instruments weren't cheap, but money didn't matter to him. "What did he play?"

"He's best at piano and guitar, but he can also play the violin." The Italian giggled.

"What's funny?" Arthur noted the instruments and stored the info in the back of his mind. Wasn't there a piano in the back room? If not, he believed there was a violin in the attic from his childhood.

"I was just remember the look on my tutor's face when Lovino marched up, sat on the bench, and started playing piano like he had done it his whole life." Feliciano laughed again. "Signor Edelstein practically begged my grandfather in let him teach Lovi, even though, he knew Lovino would be a difficult student."

"Was he not already being taught with you?" Arthur frowned.

The boy shook his head. "For some reason, Grandpa never had Lovino learn the things I did, expect the boring stuff, like mathematics. He was almost upset when both Signor Edelstein and I asked for Lovino to join out lessons. I think it was because it interfered with something Lovino was doing."

His frown deepened. Most families he knew that had more than one male child had group lessons, rather than teach each one alone. "Then what was Lovino learning?"

"I don't really know." Feliciano frowned to himself as he tried to remember. "I think...I know he learned swordplay. But other than that, I can't remember."

"Hm, did you learn that too?" Arthur asked, his eyebrows scrunched together when he frowned.

"Nope." Feliciano smiled. "But that's alright, I don't like to fight, anyway."

The Brit only nodded, shaking off the feeling of discontent hanging over him. "Thank you for helping with the gift. I'm sure I'll be able to find something for him."

"Veh, I should thank you. Fratello hasn't been able to play in years, I know he misses it. He was always happiest playing from his heart." Feliciano took his hand and kissed his knuckles, much to his embarrassment, and pulled back to dazzle him with a smile. "And if you can't give him music, he also likes books and flowers. Although, he'll probably insult you if you give him any of those."

_'I knew he liked to read. Stubborn Italian,'_ he thought triumphantly. "Alright. I'll keep that in mind."

Feliciano nodded, smiling sweetly at the Brit. "You're really kind."

Arthur blushed, unable to remember the last time someone called him kind, or thanked him for something, other than doing his job. "Uh... Thank you?"

The boy let out a good-natured laugh. "You are also a strange man. Most people would not even bother with outcasts like us."

He rubbed the back of his neck, still having no clue why he helped them. Charity was never part of his personality. "Yes, I suppose I am a bit odd for doing that. But you're also strange for being able to speak English. Even the wealthier families don't have their children learn much more than Latin, or perhaps French."

"Grandpa made sure we learned a lot of stuff," Feliciano said. "We learned about agriculture and government, other boring stuff. I liked my art time the best."

"That's interesting. I've never heard of a family taking such a broad interest in their heir's education. Most of the time, they focus on the core subjects. Or whatever will help the heir to succeed in the family business." He stared at the table, turning this information over in his head. His own education had mostly focused on literature and the study of language. Yes, he had had a class for mathematics and such, but it was mostly the basics. Seamus was the one into all that number shite he could never understand, not that he wanted to.

"Really? Well, the I guess Grandpa kind of did that. Most of the time, I painted and drew. Maybe he trained Lovino to take over his work." Feliciano put his tongue in his cheek as he thought back.

"What did Lovino spend most of his time doing?"

"I don't know." The younger boy frowned, his brows raised in distress. "I don't really remember what Lovino learned either. Other than having a music lesson with me and eat dinner, we didn't see each other much during the day."

He patted Feliciano's shoulder. "That's alright. Brothers don't have to stay together all the time."

Feliciano still didn't stop frowning. "But I don't know! Lovino never talked about it at all! I must have asked at least once, though..."

"You did."

The sound of that voice made them both freeze, not only because of whose voice it was, but the cold, impersonal tone chilled them to the bone. From the look on Feliciano's face, he could tell that they were not in a good situation. Lovino was _mad_.

"Are you not going to say anything? I don't really like to be talked about as soon as I leave a room." Lovino's voice grew even colder the more he spoke. "But, now that I'm here, continue. I believe you were talking about what I did in my spare time when I was younger, si?"

No one said anything. Feliciano too scared to speak, and Arthur too busy watching Lovino to think of something to say. Without another word, Lovino turned and walked out, slamming doors as he left.

"Oh no," Feliciano finally said.

...oOo...

As soon as he stormed far enough from the house, he let out a frustrated yell. Did he really have to act - no, overreact so badly? He was so confused with himself that he could hardly bare to think. When he heard Feliciano trying to remember the past, he just grew so angry. It wasn't even Feliciano he was mad at, or even Arthur; he was furious with someone who wasn't alive anymore!

"Are you happy, old man?" He screamed at the sky, glaring through watery eyes at the pleasant blue. "Answer me, you coward! I hate you! Both of you! You and God always screw me over! What did I do wrong? Here I am still trying to be good, still trying to please you! I'm doing as you asked, taking care of my brother! Hell, I would have taken care of him whether you told me to or not! But that's not good enough for you, right? I'm still not good enough for you! It's not my fault he's sick! It's not my fault... It's not my fault."

Lovino collapsed face down on the grass, taking huge gulps of air. No use yelling at empty air, no one was listening.

His throat stung from his rant and his eyes burned from tears he refused to shed. He wasn't going to cry. He hadn't cried when Grandpa died, or when he didn't know if he and Feliciano would live to see morning. And for all the times, he got beaten for stealing and fighting for food, not a single tear fell. So many long years and not a single fucking tear. Why?

_Big boys don't cry._

The irony of everything suddenly hit him, and he let out a cheerless laugh. All those years ago when he had declared his hate for his grandfather, like moments ago, he had ran outside, fell into the grass, and cried. That had been the last time he cried, sobbed, and screamed. At the young age of seven, he cried all the tears he ever wanted to in his life. And after that, he simply stopped crying. Now, here he was, in the grass like that horrible day, yet not a single tear was falling. Hilarious.

"Are you oaky?" A wary voice asked softly.

He looked up to see Arthur kneeling in front of him, his bright green eyes shinning so convincingly with concern. It made him sick.

"Lovino. Answer me."

Was he oaky? He didn't know. Everything about him felt numb.

"Lovino?"

"I don't know." Was that his voice? It came from his mouth, so it must be.

The concern in Arthur's eyes only grew. Oh, how he wished he believed this man could actually care about him. Then again, why could Arthur care about him? He didn't remember the reason why it seemed so impossible for someone to like him to be loved.

"Lovino? Are you there? What's wrong with you?"

Good question. What was wrong with him? He stared at the blonde man in front of him. "I don't know."

Arthur stood up, unnerved by the dull, detached stare. "Let's go back inside," the blonde said, and extended his hand to him.

He stared at the hand. When was the last time someone offered him a hand? Better question, when was the last time he took the hand offered? He didn't know or care. He was tired and didn't know if he could get up on his own anymore.

Just when Arthur was about to pull his hand back, another shot up and grasped it tightly. Green eyes met hazel, and Arthur was shocked to find tears rolling silently down Lovino's face.

He didn't realize he was crying until Arthur drew him into a close embrace. Even then, he touched his wet cheeks in amazement. He had forgotten how good crying could feel, and with nothing holding his tears back, they flowed without hesitation. Lovino didn't care anymore. He buried his face into Arthur's shoulder and sobbed, clinging to the other with all his might.

Arthur didn't know what broke the crying man in his arms, but seeing this toughened boy so vulnerable made something in him ache. Lovino shouldn't have to endure this crushing weight alone, putting on a hard shell just to protect both him and his brother. He wanted to change that - he would change that.

They stayed like that a long time, even after Lovino's sobs had quieted into hiccups. Arthur continued to hold him tightly, gently rubbing circles on his back, and Lovino didn't complain nor stop the comforting action. He was tired. It wasn't until Arthur spoke, did he realize how much time had passed.

"We should go inside."

He slowly stepped away, breaking contact with the other man. "You go inside. Tell Feliciano I'm fine, and not mad at him. Feed him the leftover pasta in the icebox and get him up to bed. I'll be in later."

Thankfully, Arthur didn't question him, and just nodded, before walking back to the house without a word.

* * *

**Translation:**

**Signor (Italian)= Mister**

**It was strange writing this chapter. I don't know why, but it was. Maybe Lovino was out of character. Then again, maybe not. Well, I hope it wasn't too sad for my readers. I don't mean to make anyone cry (Other than the characters). Thank you for reading and reviewing.**

**-_Windy_**


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur woke up earlier than usual, the sun just barely beginning its trip into the sky. He laid in bed, his thoughts wandering over the previous day's...progress? Should he really call it progress? It hadn't been the best way make 'progress', remembering Lovino's shaking body in his arms still caused that strange ache in his chest, but maybe Lovino would finally begin to trust him. He could only hope.

Beside him, a lump of blankets moved, nearly scaring his eyebrows off. Much to his surprise, when he pulled back the blankets, they revealed that, for some reason, Feliciano had sneaked into his bed during the night.

_Does this mean Lovino didn't come in last night?_

Arthur had done as Lovino told him to, making sure Feliciano was fed, quelling any worries the boy might have for his older brother, and seeing him to his bed when night finally fell. Feliciano had been reluctant to sleep without his brother, but Arthur had assured him many times that Lovino would come in soon. Apparently, he hadn't come in, and Feliciano couldn't stand sleeping alone.

_'Maybe he ran,'_ a traitorous voice in his head whispered. _Impossible. He would never leave his brother alone...right?_

He quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake the sleep boy. In the dim light, he slowly dressed himself in the clothes he'd set out the night before. It wasn't long before he silently made his way out of the room and down the dark hallways to the door that led outside.

Shivers ran up his spine when his bare feet came in contact with the still dew covered grass. The air around him held an early chill, promising a cold winter in the following months. He walked to the place he had left Lovino standing, only to find it empty of the Italian.

"Are you looking for me?"

He whirled around to face the very tired, bedraggled Lovino. The young man's hair had a few leaves to stuck to it and his clothes were damp and dirty in some spots. "Did you sleep outside?"

"What do you think?" Lovino snapped at him, sending an exhausted glare his way. "Oh, shut up. I didn't mean to fall asleep outside," he grumbled before Arthur could say anything, and stomped inside.

Arthur chuckled softly, and followed the grumpy Italian. It occurred to him, Lovino hadn't cursed at him once, yet. Although, he might just be too tired to insult him, but he hoped that wasn't it, not having profanity said to him was a nice change. "We should get you and your brother new clothes," he said, tugging at a loose string on Lovino's sleeve.

"Let me do some actual work before you start buying shit for us," Lovino growled at him.

"But you already cook for me." He gave the other man a funny look. "And if you need it, which you do, we should get it now."

"Let me earn it first!"

"You have. Your cooking is the first real meal I've had in months." He frowned. The last time he had a somewhat edible meal (of not his own making) was when Francis had surprised him with a visit without telling him. Of course, he received a letter two days after he arrived, saying he would be visiting soon.

Lovino sighed and glared at him. "Whatever. You need more food to cook with, anyway. We have just enough to have a light breakfast."

They would have to start buying enough food to feed three people, not that Arthur had had much food stored in the first place. They'd have to buy everything from the market, expect milk and eggs; he got those delivered to his home every few days. "Alright. Go wake Feliciano, he's in my room, and then we'll go out."

"Fine— What?" Lovino yelled, looking ready to lunge at Arthur's throat with the knife in his hand that seemed to appear from nowhere.

"Whoa! Whoa!" He held up his hands, and back away from the homicidal, over-protective older brother. "I didn't do anything!"

Lovino stared at him, then slowly relaxed back into his normal posture, still not putting away the knife he twirled between his fingers. "Sorry about him. He probably got lonely and snuck into your room. But it you _ever_ touch my brother, I will castrate you."

He wasn't about to admit how menacing the Italian looked, eyes narrowed dangerously with that knife glinting in and out of the low light. It excited him in ways it shouldn't. "Of course," he said slowly, never taking his eyes away from Lovino's. "I would never do that to your brother. Now, put the knife away, please."

The other rolled his eyes, and the knife disappeared into the folds of his clothes. "Don't get polite and shit. The knife is just for show. Although, I wouldn't hesitate to whack off your dick if I needed to," Lovino said in an almost playful tone. And was that a hint of smile?

It didn't take long to realize, Lovino was just joking with him now. "Haha, now be quiet."

The Italian rolled his eyes and walked into Arthur's bedroom. Feliciano was still asleep, just as he had left him, only the sleeping boy had rolled over to lay nearly horizontal on the bed. "Feliciano. Time to wake up," Lovino said, pulling the blankets away.

"Noooo..." Feliciano groped blindly for the blankets, before giving up and curling into a tight ball.

"Feliciano," the older brother said sternly. "Don't make me tell you again."

The younger brother reluctantly sat up, yawning loudly. "But I'm tired. Why didn't you come in last night? I wanted to look for you, but it's dark and scary outside."

Lovino fought back his guilty feelings and tried to scowl. "I fell asleep. You shouldn't climb into strangers' beds when you're lonely."

"But I got cold sleeping alone," Feliciano whined softly, his eyes cast down at the sheets. "And I hate being alone..."

He knew what Feliciano really meant by hating being alone; he was afraid. Afraid of Lovino leaving and never coming back. Afraid that there'd be no one left to love him in this cruel world. Lovino didn't blame him, Feliciano had grown up soft, sheltered, and loved by all around him, unlike Lovino. "I know, fratellino," he said almost gently, reaching a hand up to roughly ruffle his brother's hair. "I won't do it again, it leaves me too stiff."

Feliciano nodded and rose unsteadily to his feet, leaning heavily on the bed for support. "If you say so."

"Do you have problems feeling your fingers and toes in the mornings?" Arthur asked, having been watching from the door the entire time.

"Yes," Feliciano answered, sounding surprised. "Do you know why?"

Arthur moved closer. "I believe it's poor blood circulation." He took one of Feliciano's icy hands and rubbed in between his. "I suggest every night either you or Lovino rub your hands and feet. It'll help the blood flow, and maybe it'll be easier for you to walk after a while."

The younger boy smiled at him. "Veh, grazie. You'll help me with that, won't you, Lovi?"

"Sure, whatever," Lovino grumbled. "Come on, I'm hungry and tired."

Feliciano attached himself to his brother's arm and leaned on him as they walked out of the room, Arthur trailing not too far behind them. He took this moment to look over their thin clothes. Both of them wore shirts too large for their slim frames, and their trousers came down just short of their ankles, both items were badly patched and frayed. Lovino didn't even have shoes! That didn't sit right with him. From what he could tell, Lovino had gotten his brother the better clothes and had gone so far as to make sure he had shoes.

"Where are your shoes?"

Lovino looked back at him and glared, his mouth set in a thin line. "None of your damn business."

"Don't feel bad, Arthur, he won't tell me either." Feliciano smiled, but he could tell this made the younger brother unhappy.

"Shut up, both of you," Lovino growled and shooed his brother into the kitchen and to a chair. "I don't need fucking shoes."

Before Lovino could do anything, Arthur pushed him into a chair and took one of his feet. "I highly disagree. You have quiet a few open sores and cuts, it must hurt," he said, pressing his thumb against a bloody blister.

"Ow," the man hissed, trying to jerk away from his touch. "Don't press on it like that!"

"Stay there. I have some medicine that will help, and some shoes you can borrow until we get you a pair of your own." He let go of Lovino's foot to search through the cabinet that held all his medicines and other supplies.

"I don't need any help," the other growled and stood up without any hesitation, not even wincing.

"Sit back down." Arthur gave the other man one of his stares that he kept in reserve for his most stubborn patients. When Lovino didn't move, he added, "I don't want it to get infected and have to cut your legs off. That's always such a mess."

Reluctantly, the stubborn Italian sat back down, grumbling in what he guess was Italian. And from the way Feliciano gasped, Arthur figured it wasn't something too nice.

"It's rude to talk about me when I can't understand what you're saying," Arthur said, kneeling and taking Lovino's foot again, setting down a small lidded pot and a bowl of hot water. He dipped a clean rag into the water and gentle dabbed the cuts and sores, cleaning them of any dirt or rocks.

"Fuck you," Lovino hissed, his cheeks aflame with blush. "It's not my fault your don't know Italian, and I didn't ask for you to help."

"I know, but your feet must hurt and... U-Uh, so how did you lose your shoes, anyway?" He was glad his face was turned down, or Lovino would have seen the light blush spreading across his cheeks. He didn't like to think of Lovino being in pain at all, it made him feel strange. He smeared poultice on to Lovino's foot and wrapped it up in cotton bandages, then doing the same to the other foot.

"I didn't lose them," the other grumbled, refusing to look at him, "I just didn't need them."

Arthur frowned up at Lovino. How long had the Italian been walking around bare-foot? From the tough calluses and many scars of cuts and sores, he would say quite awhile. "I'll go get those shoes," he said, letting it go for the moment. Arthur rose to his feet, putting all his supplies in their proper places, before leaving the room.

"Does it hurt?" Feliciano finally asked, staring at his brother in concern.

"No," he lied immediately, and stood up. "Don't start being concerned like that faking bastard."

"Arthur? I don't think he's faking."

"Of course _you_ don't! You'd trust anyone willing to take care of people like us!" He cut the last of the bread into three, thick slices. Arthur's kitchen was surprisingly well stocked with pot and pans for a man who didn't cook.

"That's exactly why we should trust him! I don't think he would want to spend time and money on us if he was truly a bad person!" Feliciano cried, his throat beginning to burn.

"That's exactly why we shouldn't trust him!" He slammed his fist down. Yesterday, he'd been tricked - yes, tricked - into trusting that man. He woke up this morning, and couldn't believe that he had cried in that man's arms. "People don't help thieves and sick people unless there's money or something to gain! We are outcasts, even among the others like us! Remember why we chose to live in that drafty barn, we didn't belong with the other homeless fucks!"

"I know, but— " Feliciano broke down into a fit of coughing, his whole body jerking from the force of his coughs. When he finally stopped, Feliciano rasped, "Please, trust someone."

Lovino set a cup of water down for his brother. "I've gotten us this far by trusting no one, and I will keep going just as I am."

"But how much farther would we have gotten if you had?" Feliciano asked softly, sipping the water.

He shoved a piece of toasted bread and cheese in front of his brother, and hissed, "You don't know shit, Feliciano. Grandpa taught you a bunch of crap that isn't worth anything in the real world." Lovino watched his brother's honey-colored eyes begin to tear up.

"T-That's not true! He taught me how to help people be happy!"

"Wake up, we are not rich anymore. Grandpa is dead. Smiling is for the people with a home, with good money, with family," he said coldly, hating the way tears slid down his younger brother's cheeks, but he was too tired to do anything about it.

"W-Why are you like this?" Feliciano sobbed and pressed his palms to his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, but what was he to say? He supposed Grandpa started him this way, and the world taught him the rest, taught him to hate, lie, cheat, and never, _ever_ trust anyone. "Shut up and eat. This conversation is over." Lovino began munching on his own slice of bread.

Arthur had come back somewhere in the middle of the argument, choosing not to interrupt. But maybe he should have, from the way Feliciano was crying and Lovino stared coldly into space. He didn't know how they got in such a fight in the short time it took for him to get his old shoes. _It must be an Italian thing._

He cleared his throat and drew the attention of two vastly different stares. Oh, how he hated the tense atmosphere. "Shoes?"

Without a word, Lovino took the shoes and shoved them roughly on to his feet, and then handed him a piece of toast with a slice of cheese on it. Arthur couldn't tell if Lovino was actually angry or just upset, either way, it wasn't pleasant seeing the two brother look at anything but each other. "Did you tell Feliciano where we're going today?" He asked cautiously, taking a bite of the lightly toasted bread.

"No."

Feliciano looked up at him curiously, his eyes still wet from crying. "Am I going too?"

"If you want. Do you think you can handle walking around? We're going to buy new clothes for you two and some other necessary things."

"Really? Can I get a dress?" The boy looked like an excited puppy, his tears forgotten.

"No, you cannot! You have grown up and dressed are for girls!" Lovino chocked on his muffled laughter. "I though you grew out of that."

The younger brother pouted. "Don't laugh!"

"Uh, dresses?" Arthur was glad they could let things go so easily. When he and one of his brothers fought, usually they would go a few weeks pretending the other didn't exist and not speak to each other until Owen forced them to make up again.

"Feliciano use to dress like a girl when he was younger," Lovino explained. "And he sounded like one too."

"Signorina Elizabeta said I looked cute!" Feliciano smiled at the thoughts of his old nursemaid. "I wonder what happened to her."

"She probably married Roderich and found a better job than dressing your ass in the mornings." Lovino's mouth twitched into a half-smile to show he was just teasing.

"But you use to wear a dress too," Feliciano commented innocently.

Lovino flushed brightly and glared at his little brother. "Shut the hell up. That was only once or twice, and I wore pants underneath mine!"

The image of Lovino in a dress flashed across Arthur's mind, and a bright blush spread all the way to his ears and down his neck. At first, he thought of those French maid dresses that Francis loved to make his female (and sometimes male) servants wear, but he decided white lace didn't suit Lovino. _'Something red would be better,'_ he thought. _'__Red would compliment his tan skin nicely.'_ He violently shook himself from his thoughts before they got too out of hand, and arousing.

"Let's get going, before it gets crowded at the market," he said quickly and looked away from the brothers.

"Yes! I haven't been out in forever!" Feliciano began bouncing in his seat.

"Calm down, Feliciano," Lovino growled.

"I have a carriage, but I don't know how to drive it and—"

"That's fine. I can drive it," Lovino interrupted him.

"Fratello use to drive carts and wagons, and help the farmers with their crops to earn money," Feliciano said and got to his feet. He hooked arms with his older brother and set off through the back door, letting Arthur lead them to the stable. Arthur showed Lovino the small, open top carriage, while Feliciano greeted the horses.

"Feliciano! Get away from that fucking horse."

"It's alright, he's not going to bother them," Arthur reassured him.

"You'd be surprised by some of the shit he pulls when I'm not looking," Lovino grumbled. "Which horse do you use to pull this thing?"

"Well, I only have two..."

"This only needs one horse to pull it. Bring me...er...Mint, we'll take her," Lovino ordered.

He nodded and led Mint out of her stable and to Lovino. Arthur watched in amazement as the Italian whispered softly to the animal and fixed the harness on her, and hooked her to the carriage, something he had never managed to do. "You're rather good with horses."

"You have to get good at a lot of things to best survive in the tough times of life," Lovino said as he tightened the straps on Mint. "Or, that's at least what my grandfather taught me. Feliciano, get your ass over here and load up!"

His younger brother said his goodbye to the black gelding he was petting and seated himself. Arthur sat next to Feliciano and Lovino sat up front. Lovino snapped the reigns once, and Mint began to walk.

* * *

**School will be starting soon, and I don't know if I'll be able to make weekly updates. This is my last update before school starts and if updates become slow, that's the reason. Thank you for reading and reviewing.**

**-_Windy_**


	9. Chapter 9

**Most _Italicized_ text at the beginning will indicate that they are speaking Italian. It is like this because I don't speak Italian, nor (most likely, there are those special few) does anyone who reads this.**

* * *

When they arrived at the market, it was already in full swing and people moved from shop to shop. Lovino watched the money change hands, from buyer to seller and vice versa. He knew the way money went, but this was the first time in a long time he watched as a buyer and not just a common thief. Even so, he couldn't help the urge to swipe something from every shop they past, but he knew that if he did, it would cause trouble for his brother; he would be good for now. If didn't help that he felt paranoid that someone might recognize him, know him from his habit to wander through the shops.

"Ah, here we are," Arthur said, and led them into a cozy looking shop. Dresses and suits stood in the windows and fabrics of many colors and textures hung on the walls.

He heard a gasp of awe from his little brother as he ran his hands over the rich cloth. "This is amazing," Feliciano breathed.

"_Welcome_," a long-haired brunette greeted them in Italian, smiling pleasantly. "_Is there anything I can help you with?_"

Arthur gave them a helpless look, not understanding what'd been said. He could help but roll his eyes. "He asked if he could help us."

"Oh."

He turned to the shopkeeper and said, "_My brother and I need proper clothes._"

"_Toris! Like, I can't find the buttons!_" A heavily accented voice came from behind the brunette, now known as Toris.

"_Please, excuse me._" Toris shot them a sheepish smile before hurrying towards the voice.

Beside him, Feliciano laughed. "I really want a dress. These are so pretty."

"I don't see why he can't have one," Arthur commented idly. "He seems to really want one."

"He's a boy!"

"So? Signorina Elizebeta use to dress like a boy, remember?" Feliciano pouted adorably.

"Argh! Do whatever the hell you want!" He threw his hands up into the air. "I don't care anymore!"

During their small chat, Toris had come back with a smaller blonde, who wore a pink dress. "_You would look totally great in green_," the blonde said, walking circles around his brother, before moving on to Lovino. "_And you would look, like, wonderful in red._"

"_You're not getting me in a dress_," he growled._  
_

Feliciano blushed lightly and said, "_Veh, grazie, signorina. I would love a dress like that._"

The blonde burst into laughter. "_I'm a man._"

"_Holy shit!_" Lovino had also mistaken the blonde for a woman. He'd been planning to flirt with 'her' in hopes of getting cheaper prices.

"_Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!_" Feliciano started to fret, but the blonde **_man_ **just waved a hand at him.

"_I__t's totally cool, I take it as a compliment._" The blonde's face lit up with a silly smile. "_I'm Feliks, by the way._"

"_Veh, you are pretty. I'm Feliciano, this is my brother, Lovino, and that's Arthur - he doesn't speak Italian_," Feliciano introduced them all.

"_Nice to meet you!_" Feliks latched on to Feliciano's arm, and dragged him to the back room.

"_Hey! What are you doing?_" He yelled after them, ready to chase down his brother.

"_Don't worry about them_," Toris assured him. "_Feliks doesn't know many men who will where dresses, and I'm sure he'll want your brother to model for him. I apologies for his excitement, I understand if you want me to go get him for you._"

"_I suppose it's fine._" He sighed in resignation.

"_Is there something you need?_"

"_Yes. I want six shirts and trousers, along with socks and underwear._"

"_Do you know your size?_" Toris took one look at Lovino and gave him a timid smile. "_I'm guessing, no. That's fine, I don't mind sizing you._"

Lovino nodded, trying not to control his anger at how the brunette judged him by just his clothing, but that is expected from someone who deals with people everyday. "_Thanks. Be quick about it, though. I'd like to get on with our other shopping._"

"_Of course, sir_," Toris said, not minding the gruff tone of Lovino's voice. He took out the measuring tape from his pocket and began holding it to his body. "_Any particular color you would like?_"

"_Ask Feliciano. I don't give a shit, as long as it looks good._" He watched the other man carefully, uncomfortable with someone so close to him, but he assumed Toris most likely wouldn't do anything unacceptable.

Toris took a pencil out from its place on his ear, and in a small notepad from the counter behind him, began making notes. "_Alright, sir. I believe we have the number of shirts and trousers you want, and in your size, too. Will that be all?_"

"_You remember the socks and under things?_"

"_Yes._"

"_You should probably size Feliciano too, in case we aren't the same size; half of those clothes are for him._"

Just as he said that, Feliciano flounced out of the back room, wearing a simple, but lovely green dress. "_Veh, Fratellone, don't I look pretty?_"

"Are we buying him a dress? I must say, he looks good in that," Arthur asked from beside him, giving Lovino a curious look.

"I don't fucking care! It's your goddamn money, if you want to buy useless shit, go ahead!"

"Can I get it? Please, Arthur," Feliciano asked, coming up to Arthur and pleading with those unstoppable puppy eyes.

"Alright. Tell the man, Lovino." Arthur fell for the same look that Feliciano used on everyone to get what he wants, he didn't know whether to feel disappoints or amused.

He sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face, and turned back to Toris. "_Add the fucking dress to the bill._" Behind him, Feliciano and Feliks cheered.

"_Yes, sir,_" Torish chuckled softly. "_He seems very happy with the purchase._"

"_Yeah_," he said, letting a rare smile come over his face as he watched his brother chat excitedly with Arthur and Feliks, switching back and forth between Italian and English conversations. "_He's always like that, no matter what_," he said softly. Arthur looked up and caught his eye, he immediately forced himself to scowl.

"_He seems like a very nice young man. Will money be a problem?_"

"_No._" He looked at the cost Toris put on the receipt book in front of him, carefully sorting out the correct amount of money from the small purse he'd swiped from Arthur when they first entered the shop. Arthur noticed this and patted his pockets, glaring darkly at Lovino when he found them empty.

"_Thank you for your business._" Toris stashed the money away and went into them back, coming back with a bag for his clothes.

He nodded to the other man and looked through the clothes, checking them for flaws. "_Red, green, and white?_"

"_Feliciano mentioned to Feliks that those are his favorite colors, because, I quote, 'They are the same colors in pasta.'_"

He burst out laughing and Toris soon joined him in his laugh. "_Yeah, that sounds like something Feliciano would say. Goodbye, we must be going._"

"_Bye. Thank you for coming,_" Toris called after him, as he herded everyone out of the shop.

"_Bye bye!_" Feliks waved furiously from beside Toris, and called, "_Come back soon and, like, buy another dress._"

Lovino shoved them out to the street before Feliciano could reply to the girly man, not caring if he came across as rude. "_We don't have time to chat with dressmakers. There are things we need to get._"

"_Like what?_" Feliciano asked, smoothing his hands down his new dress.

"_Like food, idiot,_" he growled.

"You're still speaking in Italian. Mind switching over and telling me where we're going?" Arthur asked, following the two brothers closely so he wouldn't get lost in the crowds.

"Take Feliciano and go to the bookstore. I will be able to get things much faster without you two. I'll meet you there in an hour or so." Lovino walked away, leaving Feliciano and Arthur to themselves.

"Veh, let's go to the bookstore," Feliciano said cheerfully, not at all phased by his brother's abrupt departure, and took Arthur's hand.

"Will he be alright on his own?" He glanced behind them, but Lovino was already long gone. "I don't mean that he can't handle himself, but..."

"It's alright to worry, I am too. Half the time I worry about what people might do to him and the other half of the time, I worry about what he might do to people," Feliciano confessed, griping his hand tighter as he pulled him through the crowds.

"What might he do?"

"I don't know anymore." Feliciano suddenly turned and smiled at him. "So, what are we going to do?"

"We are going to the bookstore like Lovino wanted us to," Arthur looked at the boy curiously, then asked, "How did Lovino get my wallet?"

"Oh! I thought you noticed, he took it when we walked into the tailor shop."

He grumbled, "No, I did not notice that."

"Oh, well." Feliciano laughed and pulled hims along. "You'll have to get use to it every time we go shopping."

Arthur followed, wondering if the boy even knew where they were going. "Why should I get use to it?"

"Because, Lovino likes to handle money, he really good with it and stuff like that." Feliciano let Arthur pull them towards the store when he realize the little Italian had no clue where they were or where they were going. "I don't really know how to do anything with it, other than buy things."

"Is it really acceptable for me to let him buy everything?"

"Of course! _Fratello_ knows how to get the best for the least amount of money," Feliciano said cheerfully and pushed open the door, making the bell over the door ring.

"_Benvenuto_," a black-haired man of Asian decent greeted them, "Oh, it's you, Arthur-san. Welcome back."

"Hello, Kiku. I would like you to meet Feliciano..." He realized he didn't know the last name of either of the brothers; he never asked.

"Ciao!" Feliciano waved excitedly, bouncing on his toes. "Nice to meet you!"

Kiku bowed his head to the other, seemingly unphased by fact Feliciano was wearing woman's clothing. "It is a pleasure to meet you. How did you come to know Arthur-san?"

"My big brother brought me to him to help make me better," Feliciano said, bouncing closer to the other man. "I was really sick, but I'm getting better now."

"That is unfortunate too hear, I'm glad you're getting better, though. How did your brother meet Arthur?"

"Special circumstances," he cut in, causing the Asian man to give him a penetrating stare.

"A letter came for you," Kiku said calmly, changing the topic for him. "Although, I don't know why you don't have them delivered to you estate."

Arthur took the envelope held out to him. "Because then I won't have to read them immediately. I can wait for my once a week visit to get any new that might be upsetting," he said and tore open the letter.

_Dearest Eyebrows,_

_It has been a while since I last say you, nearly four months, if I remember correctly. I hope you have not killed yourself with your cooking yet, or anyone else, for that matter; I know it would be months before anyone found your dead body. It occurred to me that you might be in need of some edible food, because I doubt you can survive on those things you call scones, that is if they don't eat you first. And you're most likely in need of a drinking partner, non? Perhaps, after we're good and drunk, we can fall into the lusty embrace of l'amour. You know you miss me in your arms, mon lapin. But you won't have to wait long, I will arrive at your manor in a month after I send this letter. I hope this finds you soon, if not, then surprise._

_With love,_

_Francis.  
_

It took everything in him not to tear the innocent paper into tiny pieces. That bloody frog dared to insult his cooking once again! He will pay for those comments. At least, he gave him some notice to his arrival this time. He looked at the date on the letter to find that it had nearly been two weeks already.

"Bollocks..."

"Veh, what's wrong? You keep making scary faces at the letter." Feliciano tried to read over his shoulder.

"Someone I know (though, I wish I didn't) will be coming to see me," he grumbled, slowly folding the letter back up and stowing it away in his coat. "Would you like to choose a book? Kiku would gladly help you."

Feliciano bounced to the bookkeeper, smiling widely at the man. "Do you have any music books? My brother loves music."

"I have some, but they're quite expensive." Kiku frowned at the cheerful boy.

"Oh, I don't want to buy them, just look at them."

"I suppose that is fine. Wait for a moment, please." Kiku disappeared behind a curtain into the back room.

"It's alright if we buy the book, money isn't a problem for me," Arthur commented.

"We don't need to buy it." Feliciano waved a hand carelessly at him.

"What do you mean?" He asked, frowning slightly at Feliciano.

"Nothing." The boy ginned and turned back to Kiku when he came back with a few thin books. Feliciano flipped through the books, humming tunelessly.

Arthur watched the Italian curiously, but soon got distracted by the many books around him and soon he began browsing through the shelves. When the bell over the door rang, he didn't look up until an irritated voice spoke up in Italian and Feliciano squeaked happily. He peeked through the books at Lovino, who was being hugged by Feliciano. They spoke in quick-fire Italian for a moment, before he heard his name mentioned in the whirl of words, and began to look around for him. He ducked behind a shelf when Lovino's sharp eyes ghosted over his hiding spot, not that he was hiding.

"_Where did that bastard go? He was here, right?_" Lovino glaced around a shelf, glaring in disdain at everything his gaze fell on.

"_I'm sure he was here, maybe he's hiding. I bet you scared him off with your mean words_," Feliciano teased, poking his brother in the side.

Lovino growled at him brother, pouting moodily. This was the most expressive Arthur had ever seen Lovino, that wasn't a frown or a glare. He idly wondered what the Italian would look like if he just smiled. Not a grin, nor a smirk. A real smile. He made a determined resolve help Lovino begin to smile again.

"Arthur! I'm tired of this bullshit, come out now." Lovino walked closer to the shelf that hid him, unknowing of the Arthur's new decision.

"I'm right here, no need to yell." He stepped out suddenly from behind the bookcase.

Lovino whirled to face him, panicked for a second before realizing it was just him. "Bastard! Don't act like a fucking sneak!"

"Don't act so spooked. You'd think I was someone bad," he teased. Although, from the Lovino's persistent distrust in him, maybe he was.

"Shut up. Let's go, now," Lovino ordered and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the door. "Feliciano, we're leaving."

"Awh, fine." Feliciano pouted and joined his brother at the door. "Ciao, Kiku! I hope I get to see you again soon."

"Until then," the Asian man said simply, and nodded to Arthur, who returned the gesture.

Lovino hustled them out to the street, constantly sneaking glances over his shoulder. The action didn't go unnoticed by Arthur, although Feliciano remained oblivious to his brother's nervous behavior. Behind them, he heard someone yell out a cry about a thief, and when he glanced to Lovino, the last thing he saw was Lovino back-end sprinting down the nearest alley with a man hot on his trail.

"Bloody hell!"

"Oh no," Feliciano gasped and gripped his arm. "They recognized him!"

"What? From where?"

"Arthur, you have to help him! If he gets caught, they'll beat him to death!" The younger boy look up at him pleadingly, tears on the edge of spilling from his beautiful honey eyes.

"I don't know if I can... If he stole from that man, he won't be—"

"Please! I can't lose him!" Feliciano's English became less and less understandable, until it was nothing more than broken Italian with a few English words throw in.

"Calm down! I'll help, but first, let's get you to the carriage—"

"No! Go after him!" Feliciano began pushing him down the alleyway Lovino went. "Hurry! Please!"

With a few more pushes from Feliciano, he relented and ran after Lovino, the voice of the man chasing him still echoing for Arthur to follow. He wondered why Feliciano seemed so worried. Was Lovino really in that much trouble? The he began to remember all the stories of thieves getting their hands cut off, or branded with the mark of a thief, sometimes, even beaten to death like Feliciano said. The realization added speed to his legs, causing him to fly over the ground. Arthur hoped he would make it to Lovino in time.

The sight he found at the end of the alley made his blood boil with rage. A tall man pinned Lovino's arms over his head, quickly unfastening his breeches and grinning madly. Lovino's eyes were shut tightly, his own trousers already pooled around his ankles and his shirt torn open, leaving him exposed to the eyes of the man assulting him. He didn't beg or cry; he didn't make a single sound. Simply waited for what he knew would come.

Arthur threw himself on them man, throwing his fists into anything he could reach. Face, stomach, groin; he especially made sure to pumble the man's groin. Finally, when he had his fill of striking the man, he leaned very close and growled, "If I ever see you anywhere near him again, I will kill you."

"I'd like to see you try." The man chuckled deeply, and he realized he knew this man. It was the same one that caught Lovino when he tried to run off with his book. Same mask and everything.

"Stay away from him," he said finally, glaring dangerously at the man and got up.

The man seemed unphased by his attack, and stood up, standing nearly a head taller than Arthur. "Be careful who you defend, foreigner. That boy is bad new for you. It'd be better if you just let me take him," he sneered at Arthur.

"Get out of here!"

He just laughed at the Brit's anger and strolled away like nothing happened.

"Are you alright, Lovino?" He looked over at the Italian. Lovino hadn't moved, not even to cover himself. He just stared at Arthur, his eyes cold and unfeeling. "Lovino?"

"I didn't need help."

"What? He was going to rape you!" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You can't expect me to just let him do that to you!"

"I knew what I was doing."

"And what was that? Let him have his way with you?" Arthur clenched his fists at his side, glaring at the other man.

Lovino bent down and pulled up his trousers, examining the new tears in his shirt. "At first, yes. After he let his guard down, I would have torn out his jugular."

He gawked at Lovino. The brunette had just talked about a man far larger than him so easily. "With what?"

"I have teeth, don't I? It's not too hard to do if you know how," Lovino said nonchalantly, and retrieved his knife, that laid several feet away. "Don't act so stunned. I've dealt with scum like that guy before. I'm fine."

Was he really fine? After what nearly happened? Arthur stared at Lovino, and finally saw what he'd missed. Lovino's hands trembled and he seemed to take deeper breaths than normal. He's definitely not fine. "You're safe now," he said softly.

Hazel eyes met his in surprise and held his gaze. Lovino didn't know what to do. He couldn't understand why those words suddenly made him feel so much lighter, like they had lifted a weight from his shoulders. He felt weak. Only moments ago, he'd been strong, immune to any sick torture the world threw at him; he could handle it. Now, he's falling apart inside, his barrier crumbling around him.

He barely felt Arthur wrap his arms around him, too caught up in the turmoil of emotions clashing and pushing against each other. His breathing sped out of control, he's falling faster than he could handle. The he heard those words again, whispered gently in his ear.

"You're safe now."

He clung to Arthur, his breathing slow returning to normal. The other man felt so solid and calming. It was like he'd been drowning and Arthur just reached in and pulled him out of the black waters, black emotions. He felt himself relax, leaning into Arthur's arms. When was the last time he felt so comfortable, so safe? Then he wondered, if he had ever felt like this at all before. "Thank you," the words slipped out without his notice.

"You're welcome."

He slowly felt his cheeks grow warm, embarrassed by letting himself be held, but he didn't want to move from Arthur's arms. Finally, he pulled away, putting on a brave face, and said, "Where'd you leave Feliciano?"

"By the alley entrance, although I have no clue where that is now. Are you oaky?"

"Come on, I know how to get there," he said gruffly, not answering his question.

"Lovino. Are you oaky?"

"Yes, stubborn idiot. We need to get back before Feliciano drives himself crazy with worry."

Arthur didn't say anything more and followed him back to where his brother waited for them. After reassuring Feliciano many times that he's fine, they made it back to the carriage and rode back to Arthur's home. Lovino could tell from Feliciano's strained face that today's outing had tired him, and he made a light dinner, sending Feliciano straight to bed after he took his medicine.

"Lovino, I would like to speak to you," Arthur's voice stopped him before he could escape after his brother.

"What do you want?" He asked, not turning to look at him.

"Don't act so tense, it's nothing bad."

He didn't relax. "Hurry up and talk, I'm tired."

"It's about—"

"I get it if you want us to leave," he cut in before Arthur could say the words he knew were coming, "but please, keep my brother. We're - I'm a lot of trouble, but my brother is good. Don't let him go back to the streets, he doesn't deserve—"

"And what about you? You deserve to be here as much as your brother," Arthur growled fiercely, spinning him around to face him. "Why would you even think I'd abandon you to the streets after what happen today?"

Lovino stared at him in surprise, he'd been expecting to get booted out as soon as trouble showed. He and his brother had found many families willing to take them in over the years, each and every one of them told them to leave as soon as Lovino proved to cause too much trouble or insulted someone important. Of course, they'd always tell Feliciano he'd be welcome to stay, but his brother always refused. His loyalty made Lovino feel better, but also terribly guilty. He knew how wonderful Feliciano's life would be if he'd chosen to stay with just one of those families.

"Why are you surprised?"

"Lady Fate is finally turning our way," he mumbled to himself. "Don't worry about it, bastard. What did you want?"

Arthur watched him carefully and held out a cup of brown liquid. "Would you like to have a cup of tea with me?"

"I've never really had tea, but sure, wouldn't want you to get lonely," he said half-heartedly, taking a seat across from Arthur.

"Do you have any family left?" Arthur asked softly.

"There's a few distant cousins, but I can't contact them," Lovino answered, the hesitation obvious in his voice.

"Do you not know where they are, because I could help you find them?"

He settled Arthur with a cold stare, already wary of where this conversation was going. "I know where they are, and if I could contact them, I would have a long time ago."

"Is this about the danger you and your brother might be in? I doubt anyone would kill you after all these years," Arthur said calmly.

He set his untouched cup on the table with a loud clink, and stood up. "Don't be a fucking moron, I know you're not stupid for the most part. There are things you don't know about our situation, things I haven't talk Feliciano, which is where I'm guessing you heard about the chance we could be killed."

"I only want to help you. Doing things by yourself won't get you anywhere." Arthur frowned at him.

"Yes, you're a prime example of this; hiding out in Italy from your family, stuck here all alone, because you couldn't face your problem alone," he growled, hoping Arthur would take the bait and he'd go free without any further questioning.

He did. Arthur's eyes darkened dangerously and he said in a low, controlled voice, "Goodnight, Lovino."

"Goodnight, bastard." Lovino fled without another word.

As soon as the Italian left the room, it occurred to him, Lovino had just provoked him to distract him from asking more questions. He didn't know what frustrated him more, the fact that he'd let Lovino manipulate him or that Lovino still didn't trust him enough to let him help. Arthur sighed heavily and let his shoulders sag under the weight of his worries. What made Lovino so unwilling to allow him anywhere near him? The other man confused him to no end; at times, Lovino let him comfort and hold him, then turn right around and shove him away. This was just too much for one day. He needed to sleep and maybe think about it again in the morning.

* * *

**Super long chapter. I did it again, happy beginning then sad ending. By the way, the masked man is Turkey, if you didn't know. I apologize if Arthur or Lovino is a bit out of character.**** My school is flooding us with homework, maybe it will get better, but I barely got enough time to type this chapter up. ****Oh, and if you didn't read the top, any _Italicized_ text is Italian conversation. Thank you for reading and reviewing.**

**-_Windy_**


	10. Chapter 10

It wasn't long before they all fell into a routine. Every morning, Lovino woke up early and made breakfast for everyone in the large house, then went around waking up Arthur and Feliciano. They all ate, Feliciano keeping up most of the conversation. Since he'd begun taking medicine, his illness had faded away, but it still lingered in his bones and his flesh had grown weak. Feliciano spent his time in the library with Arthur, reading and painting; sometimes chatting about the different techniques for painting a picture. Arthur would listen with interest, but in the back of his mind, he wondered where Lovino was. The hot-headed Italian always disappeared after breakfast, only returning at lunch and dinner, because of this, Arthur had yet to show him the piano.

"Oi, Lovino!" He caught hold of the Italian's wrist before he could make it out the door.

"What do you want?" Lovino growled and pulled his wrist away. "I have work to do."

"Work? What kind?" He frowned at Lovino. Arthur didn't even know there was work to do.

Lovino gave him a withering stare and said, "I doubt you've noticed, but your home is in need of repairs. They're small now, but they could become bigger, and there's quite a few of them, you ignorant bastard."

"You've...been fixing things?" He knew of the few boards that had loosened over the years and the entire manor could use a new coat of paint, but it surprised him that Lovino even bothered to fix any of it.

"Yeah, I've been fixing things. And don't look so surprised, this is what I'm here for, remember?"

"Thank you. I was aware of the need of repairs, but I didn't know how to find someone to do it for me," Arthur confessed.

The Italian stared at him strangely, then pulled him out into the hall; Feliciano had the bad habit of eavesdropping. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? This is my home."

"Not here. I mean Italy. You're alone, you don't know the language, and you have no clue how to maintain this huge-ass house."

He pressed his lips together and glared at the other man. "I don't really think that is any of your business."

Lovino didn't seem to like that answer at all, it meant Arthur had something to hide. And he didn't like secrets, even if his own were off limits. "You made it my business by taking us in."

Arthur opened his mouth, but closed it. He grabbed Lovino's arm and dragged him down the hall, and to one of the empty rooms.

"What? Why are we in here?"

"You want to know what happened to me, I want to know what happened to you. I suppose a swap of information," he said calmly.

"Hell no! I'm not that curious!" Lovino back towards the door.

He stepped in front of the door. Every time he even tried to bring up the matter of Lovino's education, grandfather, or just his childhood in general, Lovino always found some way to escape his questioning. "I'm tired of all this. What is so bad that you have to hide it from me? Please...just let yourself trust me."

Lovino's eyes flicked around desperately, before finally settling on Arthur. "You really want to know?"

"Yes! Did I not make that bloody obvious?"

The Italian beckoned him closer, glancing around them, even though no one, besides Arthur, was in the room. "Fine, I'll tell you."

Apprehension bubbled in his chest, and he cautiously moved away from the door, towards Lovino. He could stop Lovino from running, if the Italian didn't stab him at least. "Finally."

The Italian leaned closer and pressed his lips to his ear, letting his breath ghost past his ear, and whispered, "Life's a bitch." Before pulling back and slamming his head into his, causing him to stumble back and fall on his butt. Lovino stepped around him quickly and flew out the door.

_'Dammit... Well, that didn't go well. I guess I should have known better than to expect an answer,'_ he though idly and laid back on the floor. _He has a very hard head. Although, that's not surprising._ He cursed himself softly, now Lovino would be more distrustful than ever. Arthur knew he'd screwed up, it was just a matter of time before he'd pay for it.

...

Lovino sprinted down the hill towards the stable, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew this is how cowards act, running from the questions he didn't want to answer, not even to himself, and hiding with the stupid horses. They were very calming horse, but they probably didn't understand a word he said to them; he liked that best about them.

Finally in the safety of the stable, he took a deep breath. The smell of hay, leather and horses filled his senses and calmed him slightly. He heard a loud whiny greet him and the shuffle of hooves on hay covered ground. "Sorry, I didn't bring any treats today," he growled at the dapple mare, ignoring the loud huff of complaint. "Blame that stupid fucking owner of yours. He's snooping into my shit once again."

Mint and her companion leaned over the gate and snuffled at his pockets, and the mare gave him a withering stare. "Don't make that face, I had reasons to act like that! I don't want to tell him all that crap about Grandpa and... What if he kicks us out because of me? I...really like it here," he admitted quietly, blushing at how true that was. In the few weeks he's been here, it's started to feel more like a home than any place he'd been to, including his own home when Grandpa Roma was still alive. He didn't want to leave, and Feliciano had already settled his roots into their new place.

"Dammit, Mint. Why does this shit have to be so hard?"

"And you call me crazy, why are you talking to my horse?"

He nearly jumped two feet in the air at the sound of Arthur's voice, turning to face the other man. "W-What?"

"Talking to horses. That's not a bit strange at all." Arthur stared at him, a small smile gracing his lips and amusement shinning in the back of his emerald eyes.

"Shut up! At least I'm talking to something, not just air!" He couldn't keep the blood from rising to his cheeks.

Arthur took a deep breath and grew serious, all the mirth gone from his face. "I think we need to have a talk. Or, I'll talk, you listen, oaky?"

Lovino didn't say anything, just stared at him calmly.

"You don't have to tell me, if it bothers you so much, I understand. But if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here." Arthur leaned against the frame of the door, and continued, "You and your brother can stay here as long as you want, I won't throw you out."

"Really...?"

"I give you my word." Arthur's voice rang with truth, and Lovino knew Arthur meant what he said. "I want you to stay, but I won't force you to, nor will I force you to confine in me."

He stared at the man in front of him, then let out a groan. "I hate people like you."

"What do you mean?" Arthur looked started and frowned slightly.

"Kindness. Why are you showing me such kindness? I don't understand! Why are you even letting us stay here?" Lovino threw up his hands in frustration, starting the horse next to him.

"Lovino, no matter what you think, you're a good person that deserves so much better." Arthur stared into conflicted hazel eyes. "As for why I let you stay here, I have lived in that giant house alone for nearly a year, because I am a disgrace to the Kirkland name. I know what it feels like to have no one..." _L__ike you._

He stay silent for a moment, feeling the unsaid words linger in the air, and ashamed at how selfish he's acting. It never occurred to him that Arthur might be facing problems of his own. Although, the fact that he even cared about the other man scared him enough by itself. "How did you end up here?"_  
_

Arthur hesitated, then took a deep breath and said, "I fell in love with a man."

"They kicked you out of England over that?" He knew homosexuality is highly frowned upon in most countries, including Italy, especially Italy. It simply didn't matter much to him anymore, and to exile someone out of an entire country over it seemed a bit much.

"My brothers gave me two choices, go to prison and be publicly outed or leave. I think you know what I chose." Arthur watched him carefully for any signs of disgust or hatred in his expression, but he didn't find any. "Are you going to act like I'm some diseased, repulsive animal?"

"Why would I? You can't help who you love, dammit. The matters of the heart care nothing for genders or labels," Lovino surprised him by saying.

"That's very mature and unexpected of you."

Lovino glared at him in annoyance. "What were you expecting? It wouldn't matter to me if you liked to fuck boxes and, although that'd be weird, it wouldn't change who you are. I learned that where a person comes from, his sexual preferences, or facial features matter not to what's inside you."

He stared at Lovino in surprise, making the other blush and fidget. Then, before he had a chance to stop himself, he pulled the Italian into his arms and hugged him.

"What are you doing?" Lovino screeched, not struggling nearly as much as Arthur expected.

"Thank you."

"Whatever, bastard. You're an idiot, but you don't deserved to be looked down on by fuckheads," Lovino grumbled irately, his cheek heating up, he still didn't pull away.

"That'd actually be rather sweet of you to say if you didn't swear so much," he teased gently, unconsciously pressed his cheek against the silken strands of Lovino's hair.

"Fuck you, dammit." Lovino pushed him off, quite red in the face by now. "And don't fucking cuddle me like that, Feliciano likes that shit, not me."

Arthur rolled his eyes and said, "Don't be stubborn, git."

The Italian huffed and turned away, walking deeper into the stable, past all the empty horse stalls. "If that's all you've come for, leave already."

"Why?" Arthur couldn't help the glare of annoyance he shot at Lovino's retreating back. This is his stable, what authority did the Italian have to order him out?

"Because I don't want you distracting me from my work, bastard." Lovino rolled out a wheel barrow from one of the stalls, strolling right past him without a second glance at him.

He kept pace with the dark-haired man. "I could help."

Lovino actually stopped and started laughing, a deep, genuine laugh. "Go keep Feliciano company," the other finally said after he composed himself again.

"Are you saying I can't do it? A little work won't be that hard!" His rebellious side boiled at the sight of Lovino's mocking smirk. That little twat.

"A wall has fallen in your west pasture, it's hard work for someone like you. Hell, it's hard work for even me."

"Like me? I find that very insulting. Just because I've never done it, doesn't mean I can't lift a stone," he growled stubbornly.

"That's not what I fucking meant, stupid." Lovino grabbed his hand and faced it palm up, placing his own next to his for comparison. Callouses covered Lovino's hands and barely visible scars criss-crossed over his palms, but they still help their former elegance of slender, long fingers; an artist's hands trying to become a farmers. His hands seemed smooth and unblemished compared to Lovino tanned, work-worn hands.

"Working really did that?" Surprise made its way into his voice. Arthur knew how manual labor toughened the body and he shouldn't have been that surprised, but he'd never really looked at someone's hands before.

"Yes. Do you get it now, idiot? Now go inside and make sure Feliciano doesn't get lonely," Lovino ordered.

Arthur sighed deeply and finally relented, "Fine, but don't work yourself to death."

"Fuck off, don't act like my fucking wife." Lovino lifted the wheelbarrow again and walked away.

This time, Arthur didn't follow him, he slowly returned to the house. Feliciano met him in the hall, smiling and practically bounce with excitement.

"Arthur! Arthur! A person is here!" Feliciano pulled at him arm, dragging him into the parlor. A familiar blonde head stood facing the window, and even though, he couldn't see the man's face, he knew who it was.

"Hello, Francis," he greeted coldly.

"Ah, _mon lapin_!" Francis turned to him and opened his arms into what would have been a hug if Arthur hadn't quickly moved away.

"Don't touch me! I don't want frog germs."

Francis put a hand to his chest dramatically, as if he was in pain, and cried, "_Mon ami_, you hurt me so much!"

"Oh, shut it, over-dramatic wanker."

The Frenchman smirked at him, an unadulterated look in his eye. "I never thought you'd ever get a maid, Arthur."

"Maid?" Arthur follow Francis's line of sight and glanced at Feliciano, who wore his green dress proudly. "What? No! _No_!"_  
_

"_Non_? Then you don't mind if I..." Francis left the sentence hanging as he moved closer to the unsuspecting Feliciano.

"Don't you dare. I know a very vicious older brother who will not hesitate to castrate you," Arthur warned, despite how humorous it would be if Lovino actually did cut off the frog's 'Eiffel Tower', as he called it.

"What are you two talking about?" Feliciano glanced between the two men, his head tilted in confusion. "Veh, Fratello wouldn't hurt anyone."

"So, there's a brother?" Francis lips curled into a perverse grin. If Arthur wanted to take a guess at what the Frenchman was thinking, he'd say fantasies of two innocent little Italian brothers were coloring his imagination with lust. "Tell me more about this brother of yours," Francis practically purred and led the boy to one of the many couches.

Arthur rolled his eyes and sat across from the two. He watched silently as Feliciano explained his brother's rude personality (Not that prickly personalities phased Francis much) and laughed every time the older man put his arm around his waist.

As the others chatted, his thoughts began to wander. He thought about how these few weeks with the brothers had passed. Under his diligent care, Feliciano had almost completely over come his illness, and with Lovino's wonderful cooking, the two brothers had gained much weight. Their cheeks had begun to fill out and they no longer looked as bony, which made him glad; he didn't like the way Lovino's bones had stood out, even through his clothing.

He wondered how the wall Lovino was repairing faired. Lifting stones were by far more interesting than the two in front of him. They'd moved on to the topic of dresses and why men couldn't wear them. It really didn't matter that he was bored, Lovino would kill him if he left Feliciano alone with a known player. Of course, he almost preferred death to being in a room with Francis.

"Hey, bastard, what are you doing?" Lovino's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see a dusty, sweaty Lovino in the doorway. The Italian wore a white shirt today and it clung to his skin, soaked with sweat. Arthur glanced towards Francis and saw he had _that_ look in his eye._  
_

"Who the hell is this?" Lovino growled when he finally noticed Francis.

"Ah, _bonjour_," Francis purred, smiling pleasantly at the other man. "You must be Lovino, your brother has been telling me about you. I'm Francis Bonnefoy."

Lovino scowled, his brows furrowing together. He didn't know what to say, he already didn't like this man. "What do you want?"

"I just came to see my dear friend, Arthur."

"I'm not your friend, frog," he snapped irritably.

"Veh, is something wrong, Arthur?"

"My dear friend is probably just grumpy," Francis answered before he could. "You know how the English get without their tea and dreary weather."

"Veh?"

"That's it!" Arthur shot up from his seat and threw a punch at the Frenchman. Francis, who had of course been expecting this, avoided his fist and pushed off the couch, tackling him. The fire raging in his blood urged him to fall back on his old under-hand method of fighting, but a strong grip latched on to the back of his shirt and hauled him off the damn frog.

"What the hell is wrong with the both of you?" Lovino yelled at them.

"My apologies, _mon cher_. This is how we always greet each other."

"Let go of me! I'm going to blacken his eye!" He fought against Lovino's grip, ready to bust the Frenchman's face.

"No! If you're going to fight, take it outside!" The Italian sent a kick into his rear, nearly sending him stumbling into Francis.

"Ohonhon, you're letting little boys order you around these days, Arthur?" The frog had the nerve to smirk mockingly at him and wiggled his well-trimmed eyebrows suggestively at him. But before he could throw another punch, Lovino grabbed Francis by his shirt and shoved his face into his.

"Who are you calling a little boy, beardy?"

From the look on Francis's face, he wasn't expecting the Italian to act aggressively to him; he probably had forgotten of Lovino's presence when he made the jab at Arthur. "...Did you know you have beautiful eyes, _mon cher_?"

Lovino's face turned three different shades of red, his tanned skin doing nothing to hide the embarrassing flush. "Chigi!" He exclaimed and slamed his forehead into Francis's, let go of the Frenchman as he crumpled into a groaning mess.

"_Fratello_, that wasn't very nice," Feliciano finally spoke up, scolding him lightly.

"You seem to headbutt when people are too close to you, very strange," Arthur commented.

"Shut up, both of you! And it's not like I can actually hurt him; he's your friend, isn't he?" Lovino glared at him.

"He's not my friend," he growled and nudged the frog with his foot. "Get up, you git."

"_Mon lapin_, you're too cruel," Francis cried, "I've been fatally injured by your servant!"

"What did you just call me?" Lovino growled threateningly.

"Francis, although I could care less, for your own well-being, shut up. Just get up and go to your room before you get your beard ripped off," he ordered. Lovino looked absolutely livid and ready to murder the Frenchman. He figured he'd at least save him this once from the explosive anger of Lovino.

Thankfully, Francis caught sight of Lovino's angered expression, and said, "I think I will retire to my room for now. The trip here was quite tiring, please call me when dinner is ready." And with surprising speed, removed himself from the room.

"He's nice," Feliciano commented happily.

"I don't like that fucking bastard."

"That makes two of us."

"Veh, then why is he your friend?"

"He's not! I've known that idiot a long time, we neither hate nor like each other."

"You're bother idiots as far as I'm concerned," Lovino grumbled and stalked away, grabbing Feliciano's hand and pulling him along.

Arthur sighed heavily and retreated to his library. He could only hope that Francis could keep it in his pants long enough to leave without causing too much damage.

...

Lovino had just begun to cut up the herbs from Arthur's garden when he heard someone approach him from behind. He knew Arthur was most likely hiding in the library and Feliciano went to keep him company, that left only their 'guest'. His hand gripped the knife a bit tighter than necessary, and he turned around.

"Good evening. I would like to apologize for my behavior earlier," the blonde said. "Arthur and I have never been able to act civil around each other. You wouldn't believe how many formal parties we've ruin together."

Inside him, warning bells went off, but he ignore them. Maybe it _was_ time he began to trust people more and this man seemed like a somewhat good place to start. "I suppose it's alright," he said gruffly.

"So, _mon cher_, won't you tell me a little about yourself? How did a beauty like you end up with that grumpy old man?"

"I'm working for him in payment for help my brother, and he offered to let us stay here. Although, I'll probably go out and earn money once the debt is paid, I won't allow us to live off Arthur forever." He hesitated, choosing to ignore Francis's comment on beauty, and added, "We were living in very poor conditions, you could say, and he helped us."

"Are we speaking of the same Arthur?" Francis asked him in disbelief. "The Arthur I knew would never help anyone if they couldn't pay him with money. You must have shown him something really special for him to go this far for you."

"W-What?" Lovino turned back to the vegetables, unaware of Francis slowly inching closer to him. "Shut up, bastard. And don't say such weird things."

"Oh, but it's true. You and your brother very beautiful," Francis purred in his ear, placing his arms on either side of him and pressed against his backside.

"Get away from him!" Arthur stormed in and shoved Francis away from him.

It all happened so fast, Lovino didn't even realize he'd nearly been molested, and now Arthur and Francis were standing in the kitchen having a stare off. He's so done with this nonsense, if Arthur wants dinner, he'll have to make it himself; and with that, he walked out of the kitchen. They could fight as much as they want.

"What the hell was that, Francis?" Arthur could barely contain his anger. The sight of Francis's arms around Lovino made his fist clench, his muscles tense and yearning to come into contact with the Frenchman's handsome face.

"Oh, is he yours?" Francis smiled coyly. "Won't you let me borrow him for the night, or maybe that sweet little brother of his?"

"No! They are not whores, you pig," he nearly yelled, fighting to keep control of his temper. "I'm not keeping them here for fucking and you are not to touch them."

Francis blinked in surprise. "You haven't been using them at all? They're not prostitutes?"

"No! They could be virgins for all I know!"

"Oh, _mon dieu_! If I had known, I would never have— Did you kidnap them to cure your loneliness?" The Frenchman exclaimed loudly. "The poor angels!"

"So, their angels now? Five seconds ago, you thought they were fucking tarts!" Arthur raised his hand to strike the frog, but lowered in and took a deep breath. "Listen, you bloody twat, they're living with me because they have nowhere else to go."

"You've grown soft, Arthur," Francis sang, "I saw that look in your eye when you pulled me away from Lovino."

He felt his cheeks grow warm. "What are you going on about, frog?" Of course, he knew what he was talking about. This feeling wasn't unfamiliar to him, unfortunately.

"I only warn you, a boy like that will bring you much joy _and_ sadness."

"You're an idiot."

"I'm quite serious, Arthur." Francis stared at him, his ocean-blue eyes unwavering. "Lovino is nothing like Alfred."

"You think I don't know that," Arthur hissed. "No one will ever be like Alfred, but..."

Francis set a hand on his shoulder and smiled teasingly. "Don't worry, big brother will help."

He couldn't help but groan, shrugging off the offending hand. "Please don't. Remember what happened the last time you tried to set me up, frog?"

"That doesn't count." The Frenchman waved his hand carelessly. "Gilbert only had eyes for that stiff Austrian at the time. Although, the Austrian got married and Gilbert is looking—"

"Forget it."

The older man laughed lightly. "I only tease you, _mon_ _ami_. I can tell you're only looking at that feisty Italian for _l'amour_."

"My god! Just stop!" By now, his entire face burned with embarrassment. Knowing Francis would most definitely not stop now that he found a new stick to poke him with, he fled the room.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Mon ami (French)= My friend**

**Mon lapin (French)= My bunny**

**Mon cher (French)= My dear**

**L'amour (French)= Love**

**Whew, long chapter. I didn't mean to make France abit of a bad guy. School has been very busy. I go to a college-highschool and there is more work there than at a normal highschool. Germany will be coming soon, just wait. I apologize if it seems slow now, but there are things I need to get done in the story first. Thank you for reading and reviewing.**

**-_Windy_**


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